


Soulmates Aren't Just Lovers

by celtic7irish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Bucky Barnes is still in there, Bucky needs a hug, Forced soulbonding, Gen, Imprisonment, M/M, Soulmates, TWS on never happened, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is the most stubborn, winter soldier programming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: Hydra wants Tony to build them Stark/Chitauri Hybrid weapons.  When Tony refuses, they decide that they'll make him more pliable.  By forcing him into a soulbond with the Winter Soldier.  After all, his programming should supersede Tony's stubbornness.  Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have chapters that cover two separate Bingos: Tony Stark Bingo, and WinterIron Bingo. Each chapter will list what square I'm fulfilling on which Bingo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square T1: Forced Soulbonding

_Cap wasn’t kidding_ , was the first thought that went through Tony’s head when Red Skull walked through the door.  Of course, that could be the concussion speaking. Hydra had greeted him with their typical welcome, which involved a lot of fists and boots in tender places.  

 

“You could make this much easier on yourself, _Herr_ Stark,” Johann Schmidt told him.  “Simply give us what we ask.”

 

Tony grinned up at him through split lips, blood coating his teeth.  “Thanks, but no,” he refused. “I don’t work for evil scumbag Nazis, in case you hadn’t heard.”  The guard on his left struck him with a fist to the ribs, and he bit back a cry of pain as the already cracked ribs took another hit.  He glared up at the goon. “If you break my ribs and I die choking on my own blood, just remember, it’s your fault.”

 

The man snarled, one hand fisting in Tony’s hair and yanking his head back painfully as the other fist rose into the air, probably planning to break Tony’s nose - or his jaw - when Schmidt stepped in.   _“Das reicht!”_ he snapped, and the man immediately released Tony and stood at attention, his fear of Schmidt far stronger than his anger at Tony.  Tony couldn’t even blame the guy; that blood red skull was _creepy_.  Plus, the guy seemed to be just about as indestructible as Rogers.

 

His heart still racing from the near miss, Tony met his captor’s cruel gaze.  “I’d say thanks,” he rasped, “but I’m pretty sure you didn’t do it to spare this pretty face.”  

 

“I have known men like you,” Schmidt said, his disinterested gaze moving to a shadowy corner of the cell where Tony was being held.  “Brave. Foolish. At least until the real pain begins.”

 

Tony couldn’t help but follow the other man’s line of sight, turning his head to the side so that he, too, could stare at the silent man that had been standing in that corner for the last three days, guarding him.  He never spoke; showed no signs of hunger or fatigue or weakness. Tony had tried, for hours, to get him to react, but that stare had never once wavered from some unknown spot on the wall behind Tony.

 

“What?” he asked.  “Your little automaton there?”  He scoffed. No reaction. “Yeah, maybe you haven’t heard.  The Ten Rings tried that, too. It didn’t work,” he said flatly.  Never mind that it probably _would have_ if it hadn’t been for Yinsen.  Of course, if it hadn’t been for Yinsen, he might not have survived the shrapnel at all, so there was that.

 

Red Skull was undeterred, and Tony tugged fruitlessly at the cuffs pinning his wrists to the chair he was bound to, doing his best to ignore the creeping sensation of dread that was crawling up his throat.  He was pretty sure that if he threw up on Red Skull’s nicely polished boots, he’d be flayed alive - the guy seemed like someone who cared about appearances, if one could overlook the blood red skull, at least.

 

“The Soldier has served Hydra well,” Schmidt said.  “He is obedient. As you will be, soon.” He made a gesture to someone behind Tony, and then there were hands on his shoulders and arms and temple, and Tony cursed, writhing in his bonds.  It wasn’t like he could dislodge the hands, trapped as he was, but he had no intentions of making it easy while they hooked him up to whatever apparatus had been humming along in the background for some time now.  The technicians (or scientists? He wasn’t sure anymore, the lab coats didn’t have titles, or names) had wheeled it into the cell shortly before Red Skull had arrived. It was a smart move on their part; if they had tried instead to move Tony to a lab, he would’ve probably tried to blow something up.  The cell gave him nothing to work with, and he was very firmly pinned. He couldn’t even twist his wrist around enough in the cuffs to scrabble at the buckles. He’d tried, though, for hours, while the soldier watched and did nothing.

 

Tony spat at Schmidt, a glob of spit and blood that landed on the floor in front of him.  “If you think I’ll do anything you say, you’re sadly mistaken,” he informed the other man.

 

“I think not,” Schmidt said.  Tony’s continued struggles seemed to be annoying him, and he gestured at the goon on Tony’s left.  A second later, fire was screaming up his side and across his torso, arcing painfully across the reactor and up his neck.  He couldn’t bite back the scream, and when the wand that they had touched him with was removed, he slumped in his seat, his chin touching his chest, panting through the pain, small whines escaping through clenched teeth.  That had hurt, badly.

 

Hands pulled his head back and wrapped something firmly around his forehead, forcing him to stare straight ahead.  Red Skull smiled, satisfied as electrodes - or at least Tony assumed they were electrodes - were attached to his temples, more pressed against his chest, over his heart.  Tony’s sense of dread deepened when Red Skull reached out, tracing the arc reactor with a single gloved finger. _Stay away! Don’t touch it! Don’t! Nonononono!_  He managed not to scream, but he couldn’t help trying to flinch away, memories of Obie overlapping the present.

 

Pleased with his reaction, Red Skull stepped back, leaving Tony swallowing thickly, his heart hammering away in panic under the reactor’s solid weight.  He licked his lips - not that it did him any good - and managed to bite out, “Whatever you’re going to do, just get on with it already.” He just wanted to be left alone for a while, to see if he couldn’t find a way to escape.

 

“Oh, I assure you, _Herr_ Stark, we will, in good time,” Red Skull told him.  Turning his head, he barked out a command. Obediently, the soldier walked over to stand before them, and Tony got his first good look at the guy.  Long, stringy brown hair hanging down to his shoulders, eyes a pale grey, like the sky just before a storm hits. A muzzle covered the lower half of his face.  And, perhaps worst of all, his left arm was missing entirely. In its place was a silver arm with a red star painted at the shoulder. Tony couldn’t see how it was attached, but given the way it moved with the man it was attached to, he was pretty sure that it had to be hardwired directly into his nerves, linked to muscle and bone.

 

The door to his cell opened again, and another chair was wheeled in, identical to the one Tony was bound to.  It was set next to his, and without any prompting, Red Skull’s pet soldier sat in it, allowing himself to be strapped down and accepting the mouth guard they slipped between his teeth.  They’d tried to do that to Tony, too, and he’d refused, even going so far as to bite one of them hard enough to draw blood. The black eye had absolutely been worth it to see the way they looked at him after that, more wary, like he was somebody dangerous.  Which he was.

 

“Did you know,” Red Skull started, accepting a vial of cloudy-looking liquid from one of the techs, “that when two souls meet that are meant to be together, a bond is formed between them?  Verschmelzung von seelen, the merging of souls.” He looked expectantly at Tony, who just rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he sniped back.  “Soulmates. I’ve heard. What’s that got to do with me?  I don’t have my Mark anymore.” He was starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes unwillingly glanced over at the man strapped into the chair next to him, staring stoically straight ahead, seemingly uninterested in the proceedings.

 

“Ah, yes.  And neither does the Soldier,” Red Skull said.  “But Hydra’s top scientist has discovered a way to merge together two souls who no longer have their Marks.”  He glanced at the reactor in Tony’s chest. “You lost yours to a missile of your own making. And the Soldier here, he lost his to Hydra, many many years ago.”  Which meant that Hydra had cut it out, or off, Tony thought in horror, glancing again at the man next to him. More specifically, to his left arm, the limb that was missing in its entirety.  

 

Schmidt leaned in, that terrible red skull making Tony jerk back - or try to, he didn’t actually move anywhere at all - and smiled, his eyes glittering with triumphant malice.  “The Soldier is obedient. He complies with Hydra’s demands. And soon, you will as well.” He filled a wicked looking syringe with the cloudy liquid, tapping out the air bubbles before leaning back down.  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, his mouth curving into a rictus of a smile as he plunged the needle into Tony’s carotid artery and depressed the plunger. And just like that, Tony knew what the machine was for.  

 

“No, don’t….you don’t have to do this,” he pleaded, aware even as he begged that it was useless.  Johann Schmidt had no mercy, no kindness. He was as evil and twisted as his visage, and Tony felt the bile crawling up his throat as the machine came to life behind him, the low humming increasing to a high-pitched whine.  Power like electricity slammed into him, and he screamed. At least,he thought he screamed, he didn’t know, he couldn’t hear anything over the machine, over the terror that whited out his mind.

 

There were flashes now, in his mind.  Sand and blood and _oh god oh god what have I done_ moonlight on an empty stretch of road **_target located_** tabloids and Pepper crying _what did I do wrong, tell me_ a man on a bridge **_who is he I know him I KNOW him_** red and gold and white and blue and silver and **_pain pain pain_** _make it stop make it stop_ he was dying he was sure of it _take the suit you’ll be a better iron man than I ever was_ and a chair that meant more pain, that meant forgetting again **_I’m sorry I didn’t mean to remember please please please don’t do this_** _I’ll be good I’ll behave_ his father screaming at him, telling him he’d never be a good man like Captain America _useless why are you so useless_ ** _you’ll serve Hydra well, compliance will be rewarded_** and on and on and on, two lives intertwined inexorably, memories flowing between in flashes of light and pain and knowledge.   _Stop! Stop_ ** _stop stop_** _stop stop_

 

“Stop!” he screamed, and just like that, the pain was gone.  Tony was crying, unable to stop the tears from flowing down his face as thick and fast as the memories had swept across his mind.  He wasn’t sure which ones were his and which ones belonged the man seated next to him; his mind was too chaotic to sort through it all.

 

Slowly, he felt something heavy settle across his mind, wrapping his thoughts in thick cotton.  Next to him, the Soldier - or the Asset, those were the only names he knew, the only ones he remembered - remained perfectly still, only the slightest of tremors giving him away.

 

“Very, very good,” a thickly accented voice said.  “Now, tell me, Soldier, who do you serve?”

 

“Hydra,” the Soldier answered.  “I will comply.”

 

That voice turned on Tony next, weighted down with meaning and power. How did Tony not notice before, how much power the Red Skull had.  “Now, _Herr_ Stark, let’s try this again, shall we?  You will comply.”

 

Tony opened his mouth, intending to tell the other man that he could go straight to hell, that the only person he worked for was himself, but what came out was something altogether different.

 

“Yes,” he agreed, suddenly not sure why he had tried to disobey in the first place.  He had been wrong. Hydra was strong, and compliance was rewarded. “I will comply.”

 

Red Skull’s laughter filled the chamber, and Tony’s heart sank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herr - Mister  
> Das Reicht! - That is enough!  
> Verschmelzung von seelen - Merging of Souls


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square K2: Restrained

Tony tugged futilely at the thick metal cuffs wrapped around his wrists, chained tightly to the wall above his head.  His shoulders were fucking killing him. Not to mention his leg and ribs. He glanced over to the person sitting next to him.  “You okay there, RoboCop?” he asked.

 

The Winter Soldier looked at him for a second before glancing away to stare straight ahead at the door to their cell once more.  His arms were crossed behind his back and wrapped in a metal sleeve, wider and longer to prevent him from getting any leverage with his metal arm.  The last time he’d broken his restraints, half a dozen Hydra scientists had died.

 

“I am unable to answer that,” he replied.

 

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, I figured,” he said, “but it was worth a shot.”  Deep down, in that part of him that could actually _feel_ the Winter Soldier - and the man buried underneath decades of torture and mind wipes - he could sense the Soldier’s confusion.  He hadn’t meant to kill the guards. That had been Tony’s fault, and while Tony felt guilty about it, he didn’t feel bad enough to stop pushing.  

 

Soulbonds - normal soulbonds, at least - were intended to match two people on equal footing.  They would be partners in life and in love, neither individual stronger than the other. But Tony’s soulbond with the Winter Soldier hadn’t been normal.  In fact, it had been anything _but_ normal.  Red Skull had employed the best and brightest minds that Hydra had to find a way to force a soulbond between two people who weren’t meant to be compatible.  His plan, obviously, had been for Tony to be subsumed by the Winter Soldier’s programming and to fall in line. Instead, Tony’s will had surpassed the Soldier’s.  Tony had his own suspicions about why that was, though he hadn’t voiced them yet. But the Winter Soldier hadn’t always been one of Hydra’s most formidable Assets.  Once, he had been Bucky Barnes, best friend and second-in-command to Captain America, one Steve Rogers from Brooklyn.

 

Before, when Tony would ask how the Soldier was doing, all he’d get was, “I am functioning optimally.”  Admitting that he couldn’t answer the question because he didn’t know how to determine how he was feeling was a step in the right direction, and Tony cheered internally.

 

“That’s okay,” he said, reassuring the Soldier and watching as Barnes’ shoulders relaxed.  That had been interesting, realizing that the Soldier needed confirmation that he had done a good job, that he wasn’t about to be punished for not knowing something, or for answering incorrectly.  Tony wondered if part of it wasn’t because Tony had a bad tendency to mouth off to the guards whenever he had the opportunity. Barnes had probably been expecting similar treatment.

 

Tony twisted again, wrenching hard.  The abrasions on his wrists started to bleed again, and Tony grimaced as his ribs protested the sudden movement.  His legs were kicked out in front of him; he could, if he tried hard enough, get up high enough to kneel to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulders, but that just made his legs fall asleep and lose circulation.  And the last time the guards had been in to smack them around a bit, one of them had stomped on his leg with a heavy boot. Still, he’d probably have to do something soon or risk a dislocated shoulder. Hydra wasn’t real big on comfort for their prisoners.

 

“I swear, when we get out of here, I’m going to burn this place to the ground,” he grumbled, mostly to himself.  Pale grey eyes stared at him curiously, and Tony met the Soldier’s gaze. The Soldier blinked.

 

“We?” he asked.  “You would take me, too?”  There was something almost like hope in his voice, and as Tony watched, there was a flicker of fear and anger and something that looked almost like anticipation in his gaze before his expression smoothed back out into the usual impassiveness.

 

Tony rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the way his head had started to feel fuzzy - the Soldier coming to the front and pushing Barnes back.  If he ignored the Soldier, he could usually coax Barnes back. “Of course I’m going to take you, too,” he said as if it was obvious. “You’re kinda my soulmate now.  Besides, I’m sure Steve’ll be happy to see you,” he added.

 

Barnes - Tony was having trouble thinking of him as the Winter Soldier when he wasn’t busy killing people - scowled.  “Punk’s askin’ for trouble,” he grumbled irritably, and Tony chuckled.

 

“Well, good to know that he hasn’t really changed, I suppose,” he answered lightly.  Then he blinked, his eyes narrowing. “What are you up to?” he asked suspiciously.

 

Grey eyes look back at him guilelessly, but Tony knew better.  He could _feel_ that Barnes was up to something, and the other man didn’t bother to pretend for more than a moment.  “I can’t get th’ cuffs off,” he admitted, “but I’m pretty sure I can snap th’ chain. Jus’ need to make sure nobody’s gonna walk in on me while I’m doin’ it.”

 

Tony eyed the door to their cell warily, running some quick calculations in his head.  They were fed once a day, at which time their cuffs were removed long enough for them to eat and relieve themselves in a little corner of the cell - which was gross and unhygienic, for the record.  And if they were lucky, they were chained back up afterwards and left alone. If not, well, Tony had a couple of new nightmares to add to his ever-growing collection of them. Of course, it was even worse now, because even when it wasn’t him that was being tortured, it felt like it was.  The soulbond was pretty fucking inconvenient, really. The only positive thing to come out of it was that Barnes was slowly starting to get a bit of himself back. Hydra hadn’t wanted to risk a mind wipe because they were worried that it might damage Tony’s mind, too, which would put a serious kink in their plans for world domination.  Poor planning on their part, really.

 

Tony spat out a mouthful of blood, then told Barnes, “Go ahead.  If they come in, you can just scooch back against the wall, and I’ll distract them.  Hopefully, they won’t notice. But I don’t think they’ll be in, unless they feel like playing war games again.”  And by _war games_ , he meant _beat the shit out of the prisoners for kicks_.  Tony was pretty sure most of their guards didn’t actually care that Red Skull wanted Tony to build some sort of hybrid weapon with Stark and Chitauri technology.  They hadn’t yet damaged anything vital, but Tony was pretty sure that it was only a matter of time at this point.

 

“You distractin’ them is gonna get you killed,” Barnes grunted, shifting up onto his knees and leaning forward, extending the chain to its maximum length.  “Las’ time, they busted up your leg pretty good.”

 

Tony scowled.  “I’m trying not to think about it,” he muttered, eyeing his left leg.  It was bruised and swollen below the knee, and it hurt with a constant throbbing.  Shifting it even a tiny bit sent bolts of agony screaming up his leg. He was sure - pretty sure - that it wasn’t broken, but it wouldn’t take much to change that.

 

Barnes just grunted, ignoring Tony in favor of climbing awkwardly into a crouch, his body curved forward.  Unable to help himself, Tony ran the calculations in his mind - angle, speed, amount of force needed. His eyes widened.  “Don’t --,” he started, but it was too late. Barnes lunged forward and the chain pulled taut. There was a loud popping noise, followed by the sound of metal being wrenched from stone, but Tony wasn’t focused on that any more.  His shoulder flared with agony before it was muffled under a dull thought of _‘Not important’._

 

He sat there, panting while Barnes rose to his feet and walked up to the cell’s door, peering through the tiny window.  “Geeze, Barnes. I knew you didn’t care much for your own well-being, but did you have to dislocate your own shoulder?” he complained.

 

Grey eyes flicked in his direction, and Barnes shrugged.  Or, he would have, if his still dislocated shoulder had allowed the movement.  “It’s fine,” he dismissed. “I’ll pop it back in once I’m outta these cuff.”

 

Seemingly satisfied that the noise hadn’t brought their wardens running, Barnes moved over to Tony, eyeing the place where his wrists were chained to the wall.  Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what the Soldier was planning to do.

 

“I need you to get me outta these,” Barnes said at last, turning around and presenting his bound arms for Tony’s perusal.  The genius eyed the cuffs for a moment, realizing that the setup was pretty simple. There was a pin that was slipped in when the cuffs were closed, holding it together.  Remove the pin, and the cuffs should just spring open.

 

“Sure,” he agreed.  “Also, I would like to point out that this is going to be super awkward.”  The only way for Tony to remove the pin with his hands chained up like they were would be for Barnes to literally stand above his head so that Tony could grasp the pin, and then scoot to the left while Tony kept hold of the thick piece of metal.  

 

Barnes gave him an unimpressed stare, and Tony sighed.  “Fine, whatever,” he muttered, waggling his fingers in Barnes’ general direction.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

 

It took some maneuvering, and Tony’s wrists were not going to be thanking him later, but he managed to grasp hold of the wide head of the pin with his fingernails and hold on long enough for Barnes to slide to the left so that the pin slid out of the cuffs with a quiet rasping sound while Tony tried very hard to not stare at Barnes’ ass.  As soon as Barnes was out of the way, Tony dropped the pin with a quick flick into his lap. “Now what?” he asked, raising an eloquent eyebrow at his fellow captive, ignoring the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks and down his throat.

 

“Now I do what I do best,” Barnes told him indifferently, his metal arm calibrating with a series of loud clicks. Tony didn’t even try to hide his fascination - Barnes would be able to feel it anyhow.  “You wait here.”

 

Tony blinked.  “Hey, wait, no!” he protested.  “At least let me out of these cuffs!” he demanded as Barnes walked over to the cell door, pressing his metal palm flat against it.

 

Barnes grunted. “I’d break your wrists,” he replied.  “Wait here.” His arm pulled back, then slammed forward.  The heavy wood of the door bowed outwards with a loud creaking noise, and Barnes pulled back again.  There was shouting now, as there had been no way the guards hadn’t heard _that_.  Another punch, and the wood cracked, splintering under the force of the super soldier.  Tony could feel that cold, calculating part of Barnes slithering up his spine, the Winter Soldier training given free reign.

 

There was a sound of weapons being cocked through the door, and Tony made himself as small a target as possible, biting back a scream when his busted leg protested the movement.  Then there was nothing but noise and smoke and flashes of light. Tony did his best to ignore the screams, and the sound of bullets impacting flesh. A few of them ricocheted off the cell walls, and Tony thought wildly that it would be super ironic if he died from a _stray bullet_ rather than anything deliberate.

‘

After what seemed like forever, but was probably only about three minutes, the noise stopped with a suddenness that made Tony wonder if he’d suddenly gone deaf.  But the ringing in his ears proved that false, and he blinked dazedly, flinching back when a large shadow blocked his vision. “Easy, Stark, s’just me,” Barnes muttered, his voice muffled like he was underwater.  Or like Tony was. “Got a key.”

 

Barnes was surprisingly gentle as he unlocked the cuffs holding Tony’s wrists to the wall, and Tony whimpered in pain and relief as his arms were allowed to drop to his sides.  Barnes had moved away again, and Tony realized he was checking for usable weapons. “Get me a couple of guns or something, would you?” he asked.

 

Barnes turned to consider him for a long moment, and Tony stared back stubbornly.  The tiniest hint of approval lurked in Barnes’ eyes as he nodded and turned back to scavenging.  While he did that, Tony set up trying to get himself upright, using the wall to help support him.  Putting pressure on his leg was a really, really bad idea, but he thought he could probably walk on it if he had to.  For a short distance, at least.

 

Barnes strode back in, holding out a pair of matching Glocks.  Tony made a face as he took them, quickly clearing them and checking the cartridges and chambers.  Glocks weren’t anywhere close to his favorite gun, but he supposed that his choices were limited, given that this was Hydra they were talking about.  At least it wasn’t HammerTech. And Glocks were pretty well-made, for what they were.

 

“Lead on, Terminator,” he gestured, letting Barnes clear the doorway first.  Just in case there were more baddies coming down the hall. Tony grimaced as he followed the Soldier, stepping carefully over half a dozen dead bodies, doing his best to keep up.  Barnes glanced back at him and promptly slowed his pace. Tony glared, but didn’t argue, using the wall to help support him as he made his was as quickly as possible down the hallway.

 

When they reached the end of the corridor, Tony eyed the steps warily.  He sighed. “All right, let’s do this,” he muttered, lifting his foot and placing it on the first step.

 

“Hang onto those guns o’ yours,” Barnes said impatiently, before grabbing Tony around the waist and picking him up.  Tony squawked as he was swung around onto Barnes’ back, his legs automatically clamping down around the other man’s waist.  Barnes’ metal arm was behind his back, supporting Tony’s weight, his other hand still holding a gun. “Shoot anythin’ that’s not us,” Barnes ordered.

 

Tony debated arguing, but his leg really did hurt, and even being jostled like it was when Bucky moved, it was still better than trying to run on it.  Making sure the safety was on one of the guns, he tucked it into his waistband, using his now free hand to help maintain his balance, his other hand gripping tightly to the second gun.  “Less talking, more running,” he demanded imperiously. Barnes didn’t deign to give him a response, just took off jogging up the stairs, Tony doing his best to hold on without either choking the other man or throwing him off-balance.  Though he was pretty sure that Barnes could probably carry him in the Iron Man armor and be just fine. Damn super soldier strength.

 

They were nearly to the top of the stairs when Bucky twisted, pressing Tony’s back against the stone wall.  Tony bit back a grunt, listening. He didn’t hear anything, but then again, he didn’t have super soldier hearing, either.  He really wished he could call the suit to him, but wherever they were, he couldn’t access the suit remotely. He made a note to change that, beginning as soon as he got back to the Tower.  The suit should be with him at all times.

 

“Too quiet,” Barnes muttered, and Tony tensed, the words somehow more frightening than if the other man had told him Red Skull himself was just on the other side of the door.

 

“I don’t suppose that’s because the Avengers found us?” he whispered hopefully.  Barnes gave him a scornful glance and he shrugged, flexing his grip on his pistol.  “Well, we can’t just stay here and hope nobody comes,” he pointed out. “And unless you know another way out of here, we’re going to have to take this one.”

 

Barnes grunted in acknowledgment, sidling closer and reaching for the handle on the door.  Tony’s insides were a tense bundle of nerves, and he swallowed hard, shoving the fear behind a wall of determination and hoping like hell that Barnes couldn’t feel too much of him through their bond.

 

Barnes threw open the door, pressing them up against the other side. But there were no bullets or bodies in the way, and after a long, tense moment, he leaned out into the hallway, Tony peering over his head.  “Okay, that’s not worrying at all,” he whispered, staring at the empty hallway.

 

Since they couldn’t just stand there indefinitely, Barnes started moving again, taking off at a flat run, Tony staying tucked as closely to the soldier’s body as he could so as to not throw off his balance.  Several turns later, and they were suddenly in a large, rounded chamber, also empty. Tony looked up. “Where are we?” he asked.

 

Barnes swallowed.  “Almost out,” he said, nodding towards a door on the far side of the room, maybe three hundred yards away.

 

Tony frowned.  “I hate to be a downer, but it can’t be that easy, can it?” he asked.

 

“Ah, _Herr_ Stark, that took less time than I had anticipated.”  The familiar, grating voice echoed in the room, and Tony flinched.  Barnes tensed, then slowly lowered Tony to the ground.

 

“Hey, wait, what are you doing?” Tony hissed once he was standing, locking his knees so his legs didn’t buckle under him, trying to avoid swaying where he stood.

 

Grey eyes turned to look at him, the terror in them matching the panic that Tony was feeling - his or the Soldier’s, he didn’t know.  “Run,” he whispered, just as Red Skull spoke up again.

 

“I regret that you have given us no choice, _Soldat_ , _Herr_ Stark,” Schmidt said.  “If you will not comply, then you will die.”

 

“Like I haven’t heard that before,” Tony muttered, but the panic was still beating at him, and he took a stumbling step towards the door and freedom, his hand reaching out for Barnes.  He couldn’t just leave the guy here. Even if they weren’t soulbonded, Barnes was still Steve’s best friend, and he’d probably kill Tony if he just left Barnes here, in Hydra’s hands. “Come on, come on, come on,” he said, tugging impatiently at Barnes’ hand.  But the soldier didn’t move, seemingly rooted to the spot as foreign words spilled out over the room. Tony didn’t speak Russian, but whatever the words were, they not only terrified Barnes, they fucking _paralyzed_ him, his brain screaming even as it was coated in ice.  Tony shuddered.

 

“ _Zhelaniye, Rzhavvy, Semnadstat_ .”  Barnes’ hands were over his ears, and he was bent over, curled in on himself, screaming.  Tony scrabbled at his hands; if he could just get the other man to _move_ , they’d be okay.  He had to believe that.  “ _Rassvet, Pech’, Devyat’_.”  Tony felt raw and vulnerable, like Red Skull had reached inside his chest and grabbed hold of him, refusing to release him.

 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Barnes was chanting, his eyes squeezed shut.  Tony found himself echoing him inside his head, but Schmidt was unrelenting.  “ _Dobrokachestvennaya. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu.  Odin_ .”  Abruptly, the Soldier went lax, stopped fighting.  His eyes, when he lifted his head to stare straight ahead, were dead and unfeeling, and Tony stared, horrified.  “ _Gruzovoy vagon_.”  The last note trailed off with a self-satisfied air, and Tony stood there, not knowing what had happened.  He couldn’t feel Barnes anymore. Just the Winter Soldier.

 

“ _Ya gotov otvetit'.”_ The words sent shudders down Tony’s spine, and he swallowed hard.  He’d been through this one before, when the bond had first taken hold.   _Ready to comply_. Christ on a cracker, he couldn’t do this. Not again.  The first time had been bad enough, the promise of reward for his compliance sweetly tempting, the fear of failure too ingrained to be ignored.

 

“What did you do?” he demanded out loud, reaching out for the other man.  Barnes didn’t move, even when Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

 

“Control words, _Herr_ Stark,” Red Skull informed him casually as the door they’d just come through opened up again, allowing the monster to step inside, armed Hydra soldiers swarming in and ringing the room, all weapons pointed at the two men in the middle.  “He cannot help but obey.” Schmidt’s smile was malicious, cruel in a way that Tony had rarely seen, as if their captor delighted in nothing more than in stripping away the will of another, making Barnes into little more than a plaything, a puppet on strings, dancing to Hydra’s tune.

 

He walked right up to Barnes, not even bothering to look at Tony, and Tony trembled with rage, his eyes narrowing.  The anger helped to keep the cold at bay, helped him to focus through the haze of _obedience and submission_ emanating from the Winter Soldier, resounding deep in Tony’s chest.  Schmidt reached out and traced a long, bony finger down the Soldier’s face, then reared back and backhanded him.  Barnes didn’t so much as flinch, just returned to parade rest, waiting. Tony was going to be sick.

 

“Kill Tony Stark,” Schmidt said then, stepping out of the way, and suddenly there was no time to do anything but dodge as a knife came out of nowhere and tried to slice him apart.  He felt the blade scrape up his ribs as his injured leg collapsed under him, and he yelled as he hit the cold stone floor, using hands and one good leg to scramble back and away. The Soldier advanced on him, seemingly in no hurry, and Tony felt like there were bands of metal wrapped around his chest, keeping him from breathing.  He had been so damn cocksure that they were only moments away from freedom - just a short sprint - and now Barnes was restrained as effectively as if they’d never left that damn cell. Maybe even worse, because like this, he had no will of his own, and Tony wasn’t sure he had the strength left to fight it.

 

Part of him just wanted to give in, to let Red Skull’s orders resonate inside him, too.   _Kill Tony Stark_.  How easy would it be, to just...not move out of the blade’s path?  But the rest of him - the part that had built an arc reactor in a cave with a box of scraps, that had created the Mark I with pieces of old Stark weapons?  That part of him refused to give in, and when Barnes came for him again, he reached back, wrapping both his hands around the Soldier’s wrist, straining to hold him back.

 

Grey eyes didn’t so much as blink at the arrested movement.  The Winter Soldier flipped the knife over to his metal hand and stabbed downwards in a motion so smooth it was almost beautiful.  Tony met his death head on, his hands falling away from the other man’s wrist as the knife dove towards his unprotected throat.

 

 _“Nyet,”_ Barnes rasped out, the blade turning at the last moment.  Instead of biting into Tony’s jugular, it buried itself in his shoulder.  Tony screamed at the shock of it, his hand grabbing at the knife, and promptly slipping against the well of blood that flowed out from the wound.  Barnes dropped to his knees with a loud crack that might’ve made Tony wince in sympathy if he had the presence of mind to think about anything except the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, but as it was, all he could think about was not letting the Soldier get hold of the knife again, not letting him finish the job.  It was amazing what pain and terror could do for one’s desire to live, and he lashed out, catching Barnes’ cheek with a closed fist before scrambling further away from the dazed Soldier.

 

“It appears that not even the Command Words are enough to compel the Asset,” Red Skull mused.  “It is of no concern, however,” he added, raising a fist. Around him, guns were raised, pointed directly at the two men in the center of the chamber.  “It would have been amusing to have the Asset complete one final mission before his death. The death of his soulmate would have broken him beyond repair, I think.”  He stepped back, then brought his fist down. Gunshots rang out, and Tony dropped. At the same time, something heavy and solid collided with him, wedging the knife in deeper, and Tony screamed, the sound of his own voice drowned out by gunshot.

 

There was another sound then, a roar that Tony would know anywhere, and he watched dazedly from his position on the floor under Barnes - who had apparently thrown himself on top of Tony to try and shield him from the hail of bullets - as the doors that led to the outside blew open, letting the Avengers spill in, following in the Hulk’s wake.

 

War Machine slammed through a window, followed by Falcon and a familiar flash of red and gold.  Even as shock and blood loss started to take him, Tony smiled. “Missed you,” he murmured, unconscious by the time the Iron Man armor landed on the floor of the chamber, protecting him and his soulmate.

 

If luck held out, they’d both wake up again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zhelaniye : Longing  
> Rzhavvy : Rusted  
> Semnadtsat : Seventeen  
> Rassvet : Daybreak  
> Pech’ : Furnace  
> Devyat’ : Nine  
> Dobrokachestvennaya : Benign  
> Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu : Homecoming  
> Odin : One  
> Gruzovoy vagon : Freight car  
> Ya gotov otvetit' : Ready to comply  
> Nyet : No


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes up in medical. Barnes takes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square A1: Abandonment Issues

There were voices all around him, but Tony couldn’t make sense of what they were saying, words fading in and out with his consciousness.

“Didn’t want this --”

“Don’t know how to fix it.”

“Up to him.”

“Can’t...I can’t.  Don’t ask me to --”

“How? That’s not possible.  A soulbond?”

“Hydra can’t --”

And on and on.  Tony felt like sometimes they were talking about him, and other times, it was like they were talking to somebody else, somebody  _ important _ , but Tony couldn’t make himself make sense of the words, and he dropped off again.

When he dreamed, he dreamed of grey eyes and dark hair, of flying and falling, of guns and space and a hideous red skull mocking him.  He dreamed of metal arms and electromagnetic hearts.  He dreamed of soulmates and of his father telling him he’d never be worthy of having a soulmate, of having somebody to call his very own.  Soulbonds were rare, everybody knew that.  The few people who had found  _ the One _ were the luckiest people in the world, happy and in love and going on to do great things.  Nobody knew how soulmates were determined, how two compatible souls were joined together, interwoven for as long as both partners lived.  But it did happen, and when it did, there was great rejoicing among those who were lucky enough to have witnessed it.

Tony knew that was important, somehow, that soulmates and soulbonds were somehow important to him, in particular, but he couldn’t remember how. Or why.  

Eventually, he became aware enough to realize that he wasn’t alone.  There was somebody else in the room with him, someone who spoke to him in halting English, sometimes in German or French or Russian, someone who sat near, but never actually touched him.  Tony mourned the lack of touch, the grounding that it would give him, to know that somebody else was there, was real and present, and not just a figment of his overactive imagination.

Sometimes there were other voices, but they were...less important, somehow.  Eventually, Tony started to recognize them.  Doctors and nurses that came in and checked the machines, spoke to his teammates when they were in the room.  They never spoke to the voice that Tony heard the most often, though, and he realized that whoever that person was, they disappeared when the nurses came around.

Eventually, Tony started to become aware, more lucid, for longer periods of time.  Enough to feel the ache in his shoulder, the heavy weight of a cast on his leg - he didn’t remember it being set, but it must have been - the needles pumping medicine and liquids into his body.  He could differentiate the voices - Steve and Clint and Natasha and Bruce, even Thor sometimes, when he could keep his voice down to a dull rumble.  Barnes.   _ That _ was the important one, the one he’d been having trouble placing before.  James Barnes, Winter Soldier, Asset of Hydra, and his Soulmate.  Or whatever it was that they were now, whatever Hydra had made them to each other.  Barnes, who only sat with him when nobody else was around, who had been one of the voices at the beginning, but wasn’t anymore.  The rest of the Avengers seemed to think he’d left, and Tony wondered if perhaps he hadn’t, if he was just hearing Barnes in his head, if he was going slowly insane.

When he finally opened his eyes, it was to a dark, empty hospital room.  Tony frowned up at the ceiling, his eyes heavy and gummy, his lips dry and cracked, his throat parched. He couldn’t even manage to whisper a request for water, but a glass was suddenly there, a straw bent towards his lips so he could drink.  The water was lukewarm, but Tony didn’t care, letting it ease his sore throat, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on what he was doing.

When the straw was finally pulled away, he took a deep breath.  And promptly doubled over into a coughing fit, struggling to catch his breath again.  Strong arms helped him upright, supporting him while he shook and shuddered through the coughing and the aftermath, until he was limp and trembling.  “Ow,” he complained mildly, the sound little more than a harsh whisper.

“You’re okay,” a familiar voice murmured.  “You’ll be jus’ fine.  C’mon, lay back a bit, I’ll get you some more water and let th’ others know you’re awake.  Finally.”  Something in Tony’s chest squeezed down tightly, and he squinched his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and turning his head to look at the man sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.

“You’re real,” he murmured, not sure if he should be surprised or not.  Barnes stared back at him, and he added, “Thought you’d died.  Ugly red skull, Hydra, guns, bullets.  Acting like a damn hero,” he grumbled.

Barnes’ mouth twitched just a bit, and he shrugged, his metal arm catching in the dim light of the hospital monitors.  “Not dead,” he said.  “Super Soldier serum, I heal fast.”

Tony scowled.  “That would be useful right about now,” he mused, accepting the glass of water when Barnes held it to his lips again.  Pulling back, he allowed the other man to help him to sit somewhat upright against the pillows.  “Please tell me I’m in the Tower,” he asked.

Barnes nodded.  “Yeah,” he told him.  “They were gonna take you to the hospital, but the...but Banner insisted that you come here, said you’d freak if you woke up in an actual hospital.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed tiredly, his eyes already sliding closed with exhaustion.  He reached out blindly, gripping weakly when Barnes offered his hand - his flesh hand - and squeezing.  “Don’t like waking up alone,” he muttered, listing slightly to the right.

He couldn’t be sure, later, if Barnes had really kissed his forehead and settled him under the covers like a little kid, but he would remember the last words he heard before sleep claimed him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” Barnes murmured.  “You don’t deserve this.  Not someone like me.”  Tony tried not to let the words sting; surely Barnes didn’t mean what it sounded like he meant.  Right?

The next time Tony woke up, it was to Rhodey and Pepper whispering in hushed voices.  He must’ve made some sort of noise, because suddenly they were both staring at him. Pepper’s eyes were red-rimmed, and as Tony watched, more tears fell, and she wiped them away impatiently.

“Hmm.  Your eyes are red.  Few tears for your long-lost boss?” Tony rasped with a pale, tired smile.

Pepper blinked, then gave him a wobbly smile in return.  “Tears of joy,” she replied. “I hate job hunting.”  And then she was hugging him, her face pressed against Tony’s neck, and Tony was petting her hair with a trembling hand.

Rhodey was standing there, watching the two of them, and Tony smiled up at him.  “Hey,” he said.

Rhodey just shook his head.  “Hey, he says,” he muttered.  “Hey.  Like he just got back from a long vacation or something.”  But when Pepper pulled back, he was leaning down, hugging Tony tightly, while Tony did his best to get his good arm around his friend - his other arm was pinned to his side in a sling.  “Are you ever going to quit scaring me like that?” he demanded quietly, and Tony could hear the worry in his voice.

“Probably not,” he admitted.  “Ask Pepper; it’s kind of what I do now.”  It was also why he and Pepper hadn’t been able to make it work.  His life was too risky now to drag somebody like Pepper into it, too dangerous to leave her worrying that each new day could be his last.

Rhodey got him a cup of water (“No coffee, Tony, you just woke up!”), and the two of them filled him in on what had been going on while he’d been captured by Hydra, and then unconscious in the medical wing of Avengers Tower.  Red Skull had escaped, again.  But they’d been able to recover a great deal of information, including information on the experiment that had soulbonded Tony to the Winter Soldier.  Bruce was trying to determine if it could be undone, and Natasha had apparently touched base with a few of her contacts to see if any of them had even  _ heard _ of something like this being done before.

Steve had gone out to look for Barnes, who had disappeared as soon as he’d let them know that Tony was finally awake.  Wilson was with him.  Tony didn’t mention that he was pretty sure Barnes was still in the Tower somewhere.  Or, at least, that he had been, until Tony had woken up.  He could have run to Siberia by now if he’d wanted to, Tony supposed, trying not to let his disappointment show.  Barnes hadn’t asked for the soulbond, any more than Tony had; it was no surprise that he wouldn’t want to stick around.  It was bad enough that he could probably still sense Tony, wherever he was; he didn’t need to be there to listen to him, too.

Thor had returned home to consult with the Asgardian Healers about the nature of Midgardian soulbonds, and if there was anything to be done for one that had been forced upon two unwilling participants.  They had no way to know when he would return, though apparently his girlfriend, Jane Foster, had come to New York to help out.  Clint had assigned himself as bodyguard to the astrophysicist and her intern, Darcy, mostly to give himself something to do.

Stark Industries had remained unaware that Tony had gone missing, though they were starting to ask questions after two missed Board meetings, but Pepper had assured them that Tony was just busy, and that he’d make an appearance soon.  Tony resigned himself to a full week, at minimum, of meetings and social functions and reassuring the board that yes, he was fine and alive and still earning them money.  Maybe Pepper would have mercy on him and wouldn’t make it a month.

By the time the two of them left, Tony was exhausted again, even just listening while his friends talked taking its toll on him.  As he dropped off to sleep, he found himself hoping for the presence of his silent guardian.  But nobody came, and he shoved back the disappointment.  It didn’t matter.  Barnes could do what he wanted, even if what he wanted was to not be near Tony.  It was  _ fine _ .  

Tony wished he believed his own bullshit, sometimes.

Over the next several days, Tony was able to remain aware for longer periods of time, enough that he could at least move down the hall to a nearby conference room and attend a board meeting remotely, though he only stayed on for about fifteen minutes before making his excuses and signing off, not in the mood to deal with their blustering.  He tinkered a bit with some of his various projects, though he was only allowed access to the blueprints and a coupe of tiny models.  He wanted to check on the Mark Fifty-Two, but Pepper had pointed out that he had  _ at least _ three other armors that were ready to go, and any damage to the one from the rescue party could wait a few more days.

Rhodey dropped by when he could, but his leave of absence with the air force had run out, so he mostly just called Tony on the phone to check up on him.  Pepper was there nearly every day, with paperwork needing his signatures or just general updates.  Bruce stopped in every other day to show him the results of his research.  So far, it was looking like trying to break the soulbond, regardless of how it came into existence, would be too dangerous to attempt.  It shouldn’t have worked in the first place, and Tony was lucky it hadn’t killed them both.  In the privacy of his own thoughts, Tony suspected that Barnes was the key to their survival during the forced bonding, that the Winter Soldier’s programming and the super soldier serum had kept him alive and mostly sane during the process, and that the bond had then ensured that Tony survived as well.  After all, soulmates lived exactly as long as each other.  Tony wondered how long, exactly, super soldiers lived.  It wasn’t like he had a large pool to choose from.

Even Clint stopped by, mostly to mock him, but he had also smuggled Tony in a large coffee and an entire pizza, so Tony had graciously forgiven him for his lack of manners before kicking him out.

But despite all that, Tony didn’t see hide nor hair of Barnes the entire time he was laid up.  And once he was well enough to leave (still against medical advice, but he could walk just fine on his own, thank you very much), he disappeared down into his workshop, eating smoothies and drowning himself in coffee and technology.  He locked down the workshop, setting it to only allow people in if he collapsed or otherwise needed serious help.  It had been a protocol that both Pepper and Rhodey had insisted on after the third time Pepper had needed to call Steve down to shatter the lab windows to get to Tony, who had passed out on the floor after a week-long engineering binge.  She’d been terrified that his arc reactor had stopped working and that he was dead.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about any of that as he settled in at one of the work tables, bringing up blueprints for the Mark Sixty-Three and assessing the damage that had been done in the firefight.  In fact, he was very carefully  _ not thinking _ about anything related to Hydra or a certain grey-eyed Soldier with a charming smile and more hang-ups than  _ Tony _ .  After all, it wasn’t like they were really soulmates, and just as soon as somebody figured out how to undo whatever Hydra had done to them, they would go their separate ways.

Well, technically, Barnes had already split, Tony supposed, but it wasn’t like it mattered.  Tony could still feel him, though the feeling was muted.  He wondered if that was from distance, or because Barnes was actively trying to block the bond.  Tony wasn’t even sure if it could be blocked, not completely.

He dropped his head to the desk with a sigh.   _ “Sir, I would ask that you not cause yourself intentional harm in your complete and utter despair,”  _ Jarvis requested drolly.  Tony casually pointed his middle finger at the room in general, and got a staticky huff in return, which he ignored.

“J, pull any information you can on Red Skull and Captain America and Sergeant James Barnes,” he ordered, giving in with as much grace as he could manage.  “I want to know how the hell Barnes is still alive, and Red Skull, and what Hydra is up to.”

_ “Of course, sir,” _ Jarvis agreed immediately, throwing up several charts and news articles.

Tony blinked at them, his eyes skimming through the headlines, pausing on the dates, and he snorted.  “You’ve been looking into this since Steve recognized his best friend, haven’t you?” he asked.

_ “It seemed prudent at the time, sir,” _ the AI pointed out.   _ “As we cannot be sure exactly how a Soulbond was established between yourself and Sergeant Barnes, it also remains unknown whether it can - or should - be undone.  I wished to be prepared in either eventuality.” _

Tony smiled.  “You’re the best, J,” he said, just before one of the rotating pictures caught his eye.  He reached out and snagged the newspaper article, blowing it up.  He knew that road, had driven down it a few times, on his way to DC for yet another tribunal, for yet another dog-and-pony show where they’d demand that he hand over the Iron Man technology and he’d tell them that if they wanted it, they could damn well build their own (oh, wait, no they couldn’t, they’d tried).

His eyes skipped up to the date, even though he already knew what it would say.  December 16, 1991.  His vision drew in, going grey and hazy around the edges as he tossed the article away from him, his breath coming in short and fast, rasping in his chest.  The reactor felt like it weighed a ton as Tony felt around blindly for a moment before just dropping to the floor, his back pressed against the work table as he tried to deny what his mind was trying to tell him.  “No, no no no no,” he chanted over and over again, his fingers winding into his short hair and pulling sharply.  “No, it’s not...it didn’t...it can’t have…” he trailed off, his airway constricting as tears burned behind his eyes.

Down in the unidentifiable space that Tony was starting to simply refer to as the bond, he felt something like confusion. Or concern.  Suddenly, inexplicably angry, he hissed, “You did this! You killed them!”  He doubted the words themselves made it through, but the additional presence inside of him flinched, pulling back.  There was a brief flare of...something...and then that, too, was gone, sealed over with ice that left Tony shivering on the workshop floor.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, dazed as the knowledge sunk in, his mind spinning in an endless loop.  But eventually, Jarvis must have gotten concerned enough to active his emergency protocols, because there was someone crouching down in front of him, talking to him.  It took Tony a long moment to recognize the face swimming in front of him, and when it finally coalesced into a very worried-looking Pepper, Tony just shifted forward, pressing his forehead into her shoulder.  “Pep,” he murmured.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Pepper murmured, “Oh, Tony.  What’s wrong?”  Tony just shook his head, and she sighed.  “All right.  It’s okay, Tony.  It’s fine.”  She fell silent, and Tony just let himself be held, breathing in her familiar scent, grateful for the comfort she still gave him so freely.  Even though they hadn’t worked out as a couple, Tony loved her.  And he was pretty sure she loved him.  It just...wasn’t enough.  For either of them.  But they could still be friends and co-workers.

Eventually, Pepper eased back, one slender hand moving up to brush Tony’s bangs back.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Tony sighed, nuzzling Pepper’s palm before leaning back.  Wordlessly, he pulled down the news article, watching tiredly while his friend read it, her brows furrowed.  When she was done, she glanced at him, then looked at it again.  Tony watched her face when he said, “Jarvis found this when he was pulling information on Barnes,” he said.

Pepper’s expression froze, her mind working quickly, and it was only a matter of seconds before she realized  the same thing that had occurred to Tony.  “Oh, Tony,” she said in sympathy.  “I’m so sorry.”

Tony shook his head.  “Don’t be,” he told her.  “I’m not.  Dad probably deserved it anyhow.”  His mother, though.  She hadn’t deserved any of it.  There was a video file attached to the news article, but Tony didn’t think he could watch it, didn’t think he could bear to see the man he’d come to know under Hydra’s non-existent mercy murder his mother in cold blood.  Howard hadn’t been the only parent he’d lost that night.

“Tony,” Pepper scolded, but there was no real heat behind it, and Tony gave her a wobbly smile of gratitude.

“I’m okay, Pep,” he told her.  “Well, I will be,” he amended at her doubtful look. “It just caught me off-guard.  I haven’t thought about that night in years.”  That was a lie, but Pepper didn’t need to know that.  “I just….he’s my soulmate now, you know?  Whether either of us wanted it, it’s done, and I don’t know if it can be broken.  So now I have to figure out how to deal.”  Anger and sorrow would only keep Barnes at bay for so long.  Sooner or later, they’d have to actually  _ talk  _ to each other.  Especially given Steve’s determination to find his best friend and bring him back with him.

“Come upstairs,” Pepper told him then.  “Thor is back.  Maybe he’ll have good news.”

Tony sighed, but didn’t argue, gesturing for Jarvis to shut down the files.  He’d have time to torture himself with them later.  It wasn’t like he had anything else to do while everybody else tried to figure out how to break the Soulbond, or whatever it was they were trying to do.  Tony hadn’t given it much thought once he’d left the hospital.  After all, it wasn’t like Barnes was there as a constant reminder, physically, at least.  The bond between them was something else altogether.

When he followed Pepper out onto the common floor, there was a rather boisterous discussion going on.  Thor apparently hadn’t had any luck with the Asgardian Healers, or their magic-users.  And Loki had just laughed when he’d found out that Midgard’s Man of Iron was soulbound to a brain-washed ex-assassin.

Pepper glanced at him worriedly, but Tony just flashed her a quick smile and made his way over to the coffee machine.  Because if he was going to have this conversation, he was going to at least have coffee if he couldn’t have alcohol.

“Okay,” he said, once he had a mug in his hands, “lay it on me.”  Then he paused.  “First, who are you and why are you in my Tower?” he asked, pointing at the dark-haired girl with glasses.

The girl grinned at him.  “Pretty sure it’s called Avengers Tower now,” she pointed out.  “And I hear that at least twelve percent of it belongs to your CEO.”  She held out her hand.  “Darcy Lewis.”

Tony smiled back; he liked the feisty intern.  “You know who I am,” he said by way of introduction, reaching out to shake her hand.

Darcy turned to Clint, who was lounging against the counter.  “I got to shake Tony Stark’s hand!” she squealed, cradling her hand.

Clint smirked.  “Don’t let it go to your head,” he advised.  Tony flipped him off, and Clint cheerfully returned it.

“Tony.”  And that would be Bruce, sounding way too serious.  Tony sighed before tilting his head in Bruce’s direction to acknowledge that he’d heard.  “I guess we should start with the most important question,” Bruce said carefully, once he had Tony’s attention.  “Do you want the Soulbond broken?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it?  On the one hand, Tony had lost his Mark years before.  And even before that, he’d never paid it any mind, far more interested in his status as a billionaire playboy than in finding The One.  There would be years for that.

But the fact remained that neither he nor Barnes had asked to be bound.  And there was still the matter of Tony’s parents.  He’d had  _ years _ to get over their deaths, and all it took was a chance meeting and a single article from over two decades ago to bring all that crap back.  Not that he’d been particularly close to his parents at the time of their deaths, but to learn that it hadn’t been an accident at all, but a deliberate assassination on Hydra’s orders?  It was hard to wrap his head around, his world tossed upside down and sideways.

So instead of answering, he asked, “Isn’t there a second person that should have some say in this?”  He doubted Barnes wanted to be Soulbound to him, given the fact that he hadn’t even stuck around, but they should at least ask the guy.  Especially since the bond seemed to have been helping him.  He was less Winter Soldier Murderbot and more Bucky Barnes, sniper.

His friends were sharing significant glances with each other, and he scowled.  “What is it?” he demanded, draining his mug and setting it under the machine for a refill.

This time, it was Natasha who answered, always the voice of reason.  “We aren’t sure that he’s capable of making that decision,” Natasha replied.  “We had to sedate him so we could get you medical attention.  He attacked Steve.”  Which...had more significance than it would if Steve and Barnes hadn’t grown up together, Tony knew.

“He didn’t kill him,” Tony pointed out.  Then he frowned.  “He knew him.”  Natasha raised an eyebrow, and Tony shrugged, leaning casually back against the counter.  “When Red Skull - who is incredibly creepy, by the way, I just want you all to know that, Steve’s a lucky bastard - did whatever the hell it was he did to us, I caught glimpses of his memories.”  He shuddered; that had been...unpleasant.  “He recognized Steve.  He didn’t know why, or how, but he  _ knew _ him.”

“Well, that might explain it,” Natasha agreed with a small nod.  When Tony just raised a pointed eyebrow, she shrugged.  “He is a ghost story, the Winter Soldier.  I have come across him twice, neither time unscathed.  But he is running now.  He did not seem to recognize me, and there is no way Hydra would have allowed him to run from confronting Captain America.  But he is running.  Because, perhaps, there is more of James in there than we realized, and James knows Steve, even if the Soldier does not know the Captain.”

Tony made a face.  “That...makes a strange sort of sense,” he admitted.  Then he shook his head.  “But anyhow, pretty sure that even if you  _ could _ break the Soulbond, you’re going to need Barnes.”

“Tony,” Pepper broke in.  “I really don’t think Barnes should have any say in this.”  Tony could hear the anger in her tone, and he sighed.  There was no way he was going to hash this out in front of everybody else.  His parents were dead because Hydra had sent Barnes after them, and he was really good at his job.  It stung, and the anger would probably not fade anytime soon, but too much shit had happened in Tony’s life for him to blame the guy for something he couldn’t control.  That would be like blaming Clint for blowing a hole in the Helicarrier and getting Coulson shot.  It had been his body, but it hadn’t been  _ him _ .

“Look,” he said at last.  “You guys don’t have any idea how to break it anyhow.  Steve’s out looking for the guy.  Let’s just….see what happens.”  Maybe by the time Steve found Barnes, or they figured out a way to break the bond, he’d have had time to come to grips with the rest of it.  Now, if that’s everything, I’ve got to get back to, you know, helping to save the world,” he said, draining his second cup of coffee and setting it on the counter.

He pressed tentatively against the bond inside of him, but the wall of ice was still holding, and Tony shuddered.   _ Coward _ , he accused, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Barnes or himself.  

There was no response, which was expected, but it still stung.   _ Yeah, well, fuck you, too, buddy.   _

Now, where did he keep the good stuff?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, the 'abandonment issues' weren't quite as prominent as I might like them to be in this chapter, but they're definitely there, and when Barnes shows back up, there's probably going to be a reckoning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony goes and retrieves Steve and Barnes, and brings them back home to the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square S2: Prison
> 
>  
> 
> Note: This has two different sorts of prison. First, Tony is retrieving them from jail because they caused a huge mess when Steve found Barnes and tried to bring him home (Barnes didn't want to go). And two, because even in the Tower, Tony knows better than to just let Barnes run loose.

Tony strolled into the police station behind the officer, his hands in his pockets as he listened to the police chief explaining why, exactly, a couple of his officers had picked up Captain America and placed him under arrest for causing a disturbance and destroying public property.  Tony just sighed to himself; Steve had already gone over this when he’d called him, his tone sheepish as he explained that he wasn’t exactly carrying his wallet on him and needed bail money. He’d found his buddy, but Barnes hadn’t exactly given in quietly. The two of them had more or less left a swath of destruction in a block-wide radius.  

 

Tony had already notified Pepper, who was handling notifying the attorneys, who would be dealing with various angry civilians and their insurance companies to replace or repair any damages, and to finance housing if necessary.  And Tony, well, Tony had flown the Iron Man suit down to the Washington, DC Metropolitan Police Department to pick up the wayward children.

 

“We were going to have them treated at the hospital,” Chief - Tony had already forgotten his name - was saying.  “But they said they’d be fine, and asked if we could just book them so they could make a phone call. Captain Rogers seemed quite adamant.”

 

Tony shrugged.  “Yeah, well, maybe he’s figuring his buddy won’t try and bust out of a place filled with cops,” he pointed out.  Which, from what he knew of Barnes, probably wouldn’t actually stop the guy, but he hadn’t tried to leave yet, so Tony supposed it could be counted as a win.  Sort of.

 

Chief looked at him like he was insane, and Tony just gave him a bland smile.  “Yes, well,” Chief continued, “Captain Rogers insisted on waiting in the...holding cells while he and his…while he and the other guy were processed.”  Obviously, the cops were having a hard time reconciling that Captain America was friends with a guy who had probably been doing his damnedest to knock him out cold.  Probably just like old times, Tony mused, Steve getting the snot beat out of him because he just tried too damn hard.

 

“Yes, well, I’m sure he’s had proper time to reflect on his actions,” Tony said mildly. “Also, a rather sizeable donation has been made on behalf of the Metropolitan Police Department as thanks for your diligence in protecting our fair Capitol.”  Really, it was hush money, and they both knew it, but it _had_ gone through the Maria Stark Foundation, and they’d benefit from the tax break, so really, everything was legal.  Tony just appreciated the department’s discretion. The last thing they needed to deal with was the press getting hold of Captain America being arrested for brawling in the streets with his long-lost presumed dead buddy from seventy years ago.

 

Chief smiled.  “We appreciate the donation, Mr. Stark,” he said.  “It will help a lot of people.” Tony was sure it would.

 

There was a group of officers hanging around the hallway that led to the holding cell.  They scattered when Chief growled at them. “Don’t you all have reports to file or something?” he demanded.  

 

They both ignored the lingering looks and whispered conversations that followed them.  “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Stark,” Chief apologized. “We don’t usually find ourselves arresting American heroes.”

 

Tony grinned sharply.  “I’m sure,” he agreed. “Politicians just aren’t the same.”  Chief checked his face, and Tony gave him a friendly smile, and he relaxed, giving a small chuckle.

 

“They’re just right down here,” Chief said, pointing to the right.  “If you want to speak with them, I’ll just go ahead and make sure all the paperwork is in order, so you can just sign and be on  your way.”

 

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, thanks,” he said, already distracted, as if he was being pulled towards the man at the end of the row of empty cells.  They must’ve kept Steve and Barnes separate from the normal crowd of drunks and nuisances, he supposed. Probably a good decision; it would be really bad PR if Barnes took out a drunken idiot who didn’t know enough to keep his mouth shut.

 

“Rogers, I expected better from you,” he said, stopping at the first cell, which contained the blonde super soldier.  

 

Steve gave him a wry smile.  “Yes, because I’m known for my diplomacy,” he replied.  Tony laughed. He’d forgotten how much of a sarcastic little shit Rogers was sometimes.

 

“Yeah, well, lucky for you, you have a benevolent benefactor that is willing to pay your bail when you take down half a city block,” he retorted, already moving past Steve to the second cell.  Barnes was lying across the bench, his metal hand tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, seemingly unconcerned with his predicament. Tony couldn’t feel anything in particular from him either, beyond calm resignation.  

 

“One would’ve thought you’d had enough of prisons,” Tony mused.

 

Barnes scoffed.  “This ain’t prison,” he retorted, still staring up at the ceiling.  “This is jus’...temporary housin’.” Tony supposed he had a point, if one considered that he’d been a prisoner of Hydra for the past seventy years.  These accommodations were probably much nicer.

 

“Yeah, well, seeing as you’re presumed dead, you’re going to have to deal with some more ‘temporary housing’ once we get you out of here,” Tony informed him.  The Winter Soldier wasn’t widely known, but SHIELD knew about him, and Fury wanted Barnes brought in for questioning. Tony had been able to put him off on account of not knowing where, exactly, Barnes was (the bond didn’t give location, just a general sense of well-being or high emotions), and the fact that he’d been brain-washed and programmed.  It wouldn’t buy him a lot of time - the bond, even mostly inert, had apparently continued to help Barnes even when he’d been far away from the Tower and trying to block Tony. A Soulbond couldn’t be blocked entirely, of course, but it could apparently be...muffled.

 

Barnes nodded, like he’d been expecting that.  “Of course. I’m a war criminal,” he said.

 

“Bucky,” Steve started in a tone that indicated this wasn’t the first time this had come up, but Tony cut him off before the two of them could get into an argument in the middle of a damn police station.

 

“Nope,” he said.  “The Winter Soldier is guilty of following orders from his superiors.  Nuremberg defense.” Two pairs of eyes turned to look at him, one in confusion and the other in consternation, and he sighed.  “I’ll explain later. Basically, it's a claim that since Barnes here was brainwashed and following the orders of his superiors, he can’t be convicted of war crimes.  Not that that's an actual defense, but I'm sure my legal team probably has six viable defenses ready to go, even without having information beyond the basics.  But we aren’t at that point yet, anyhow. James Buchanan Barnes is still presumed dead,” Tony explained. “So we have to get him reinstated as being alive, first.”

 

“So they can accuse me of desertin’, instead,” Barnes muttered.  “This jus’ keeps gettin’ better and better.”

 

Tony smiled at him, and it wasn’t a nice smile.  It was the smile he used right before Stark Industries bought out a bothersome newspaper or pulled a contract.  It usually spelled trouble for whoever was on the receiving end. “Oh, it does,” he agreed. “Because if you’re alive, and weren’t working for Hydra willingly, then you were technically a Prisoner of War.  We probably won't even use Nuremberg, even though I'd love to see the looks on their faces if we try it.” Using a Nazi-originated defense ploy for one of Hydra’s Assets would amuse Tony, if nothing else. And probably piss off a lot of people, which was just a bonus, really.

 

Now Barnes was sitting up, eyeing Tony, who could practically _feel_ the suspicion radiating off the other man.  “I would’ve thought you’d want me to pay for m’ crimes,” he said slowly, ignoring Steve’s swallowed protest.  “I mean, considerin’ what I did.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Do you know what dad was carrying in the trunk?” he asked instead, staring intently at his parents’ murderer.  “Do you know what Hydra really sent you after?”

 

Barnes shook his head, frowning, his eyes growing distant.  “No, I….there was a case,” he said slowly, like he was sifting through his memories.  “I...no witnesses. There was a camera, watchin’ to make sure. The case had vials in it.  I don’t…,” he looked up at Tony, frustrated.

 

Tony nodded decisively.  “Yeah, I figured. I don’t think those vials ever made it back to Hydra,” he said.  “They had more super soldier serum in them. Like what was in Steve.”

 

“What?” Steve exclaimed.  “Why would Howard make more?” he demanded.

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Because you were the best thing he’d ever been part of,” he said carefully, trying very hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.  The way Barnes tensed told him that he hadn’t been entirely successful at keeping it away from the bond, too. “And dad believed very strongly in the military.  He’d succeeded once; he could damn well do it again.” Of course, Tony suspected that without Erskine’s _correct_ formula, Howard might’ve only succeeded in creating monsters instead of soldiers.  Red Skull and Blonsky came to mind. Bigger and stronger, yes, but without the moral compass to keep them human.  Because Howard had never cared for people as much as he’d cared for _things_.

 

Barnes frowned.  “There were other Assets,” he said.  “More Winter Soldiers. But none of them worked right.”  He didn’t say what had happened to them, and Tony hoped they were dead and not just locked away in a dark hole somewhere.  Because if they weren’t dead, they were probably just a headache waiting to happen.

 

“Yeah, probably because they tried whatever they did with you on them, and it didn’t work.  Like Red Skull versus Captain America. Same formula, completely different results.” He didn’t understand how the serum and the radiation did what it did, and he didn’t particularly want to.  That was more Bruce’s field, anyhow.

 

Before any of them could say anything else, Chief was back.  “Everything’s in order, Mr. Stark,” he said as two of his underlings unlocked the cell doors to let Steve and Barnes out.  “If you’ll just sign here, we’ll release their personal items, and you’ll be free to take them with you.” He held out the clipboard expectantly, and Tony hesitated for just a moment before reaching out and taking it, carefully ignoring the way his hand shook just a tiny bit as he signed the paperwork.

 

“Give them their stuff,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as soon as he was able to pass off the clipboard.  He felt concern radiating down the bond, but brushed it off. He was fine. He just didn’t like to be handed things, that was all.

 

Ten minutes later, the three men were stepping out into the early dusk.  Barnes looked around. “You got a car?” he asked.

 

Tony eyed him over his sunglasses.  “No, I have a suit,” he said succinctly, calling the armor from its hiding place on the police department’s roof and stepping into it.  “You and Spangles are going to ride with Happy.” He pointed to the black Audi waiting at the curb. Giving them a mock salute, he closed the faceplate and took off, heading for New York and Avengers Tower.  In rush hour traffic, it would probably take Happy a couple of hours to get back, which would give Tony time to finish up a few last-minute touches before they arrived.

 

“J, how are we doing with our guest’s accommodations?” he asked as he set down, the disassembly platform swiftly removing the armor as he made his way inside.  

 

“ _The rooms have been prepared to your specifications, sir,_ ” Jarvis replied, then paused for a moment before asking,  “ _Are you sure this is wise?_ ”

 

Tony shrugged.  “Not at all,” he admitted.  “But what are we going to do? Throw him into a hole somewhere?  And I don’t trust Fury not to let him rot in prison. Provided he survives the interrogation, of course.”  Fury might fall on the side of the angels, but having unfettered access to the Winter Soldier? Yeah, wasn’t happening.  Even if his soul hadn’t been bound to Tony’s, the genius was pretty sure letting Fury have him would be tantamount to agreeing that SHIELD was better equipped to handle Barnes than he was.  No, better to keep him where Tony could keep an eye on him. And he definitely wasn’t doing it for Steve. Nope, not even a little bit.

 

Tony took the time before Happy arrived with Steve and their new guest to check over the rooms that he’d assigned to Barnes, temporarily, at least.  Built on the same premises as the Hulk Room, Tony was hoping that Barnes wouldn’t be able to bust out of something triggered the Winter Soldier. Because if Barnes was strong enough to take down the Hulk, they were all in trouble.

 

Jarvis offered sound advice, which Tony ignored as per usual, and an hour later found him seated at the bar on the Common Floor, waiting for his guests to arrive.  He could feel Barnes drawing closer, and he took another sip of scotch. He probably should have stuck with water, but since when had he ever listened to reason?

 

Steve and Barnes walked out of the elevator side-by-side, but Steve didn’t look happy about it and Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve.  “Did you try to protect him from me?” he asked, smiling sharply. He was pretty sure that if Steve could’ve stepped out first, he would have.  It seemed like Barnes had some balls after all.

 

“Tell me you’re not planning to lock him up,” Steve retorted.

 

Tony shrugged.  “I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head.  “But I can promise you that it’s a much nicer prison than the one you were just in.  And definitely nicer than any SHIELD prison. I hear the Raft is pretty cozy, though,” he mused.  Steve glowered, and Barnes just looked confused. “Underwater prison,” Tony informed him. Barnes nodded, though it was clear that he still had no idea what Tony was talking about.  Not that it mattered.  He would never find himself a guest of General Thaddeus Ross if Tony had any say in it, if only because he liked Ross about as much as he liked Hank Pym.

 

Tony stood up.  “Well, the day isn’t getting any younger,” he said.  “If you’d follow me.” It wasn’t a question, and he turned around, expecting the two men to follow him.  He politely ignored the whispered argument happening behind him as he led them down two floors to Barnes’ new home.

 

When they stepped out of the elevator, the two super soldiers paused, taking it in.  “Tony?” Steve asked, sounding almost hopeful.

 

Tony looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  “Yes, Captain?” he purred. “What? Did you think I was going to throw him into a Hulk Cage?”  By the look on Steve’s face, that’s exactly what he was thought, and Tony tried not to be hurt by the other man’s lack of faith.  Steve had called _him_ to come get them.  Not Sam, not Natasha, but _him_.  And he still didn’t trust him?

 

“Yer an idiot,” Barnes told Steve flatly, and Tony realized that the Soldier had probably felt the brief flare of hurt that he hadn’t been able to push back quickly enough.  “Stark’s a good guy. You told me that.” Tony wondered what else Steve had told his best friend while they’d been bonding in adjacent jail cells, but he didn’t ask, not really wanting to know.

 

Instead, he watched as Barnes explored his floor, noticing the lack of knives and forks and the furniture bolted to the floor.  Even the television was set into the wall, so while Barnes could feasibly break the screen, he couldn’t do much more than that.

 

And while Tony knew that a lack of silverware wouldn’t really make much of a difference - Natasha certainly didn’t need knives to stab someone - he was hoping that it might make Barnes feel a little better, at least, like he was taking the danger Barnes represented seriously.  And he was. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t remember Barnes fighting his programming to avoid killing him, or the heaviness of Barnes’ body when he’d thrown himself on top of Tony when the bullets had started flying. For whatever reason (don’t kid yourself, Stark, it’s the soulbond, nothing more), Barnes seemed invested in keeping him alive.  So the precautions were mostly for the other members of the team. Steve in particular, because the big blonde was stupid with his own safety, so Tony would have to do his best to preserve his All-American ass.

 

“This is...nice,” Barnes said when he came back around.  “Thank you.” He wasn’t looking at Tony when he said it, and Tony got the general feeling that Barnes was a little overwhelmed, so he just nodded.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed.  “Look, I’ll leave you to get settled in.  If you need anything, just ask Jarvis.” He gripped Steve’s arm and gave the man a pointed look.  Steve stared stubbornly back, and Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take your buddy here away for a bit, catch him on what he’s missed while he was out.  I promise I won’t keep him for long.”

 

Barnes nodded carefully, like he wasn’t sure what the correct response was, but Tony felt something like relief slither through him, and he realized that maybe he wasn’t the only one itching for some alone time to gather his thoughts.

 

“I’ll be back, Bucky,” Steve promised.

 

Barnes just nodded again, watching as Tony herded Steve back out of the lobby and towards the elevator.  He hadn’t told Steve this, but the elevator doors were also Hulk-proof and would be locked except in cases of emergency (like the floor blowing up) or with Tony’s permission or override code.  It would also open to let the Avengers in and out, as long as Barnes wasn’t with them.

 

Just before the doors closed, Barnes spoke up.  “Stark,” he said. The doors froze, and Tony looked at the other man.  “Thanks. I mean it.” His tone was sincere, and Tony didn’t sense any deception in him, so he just nodded.

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll...be back later,” he told him. “We need to talk.”  He grimaced; he hated that phrase with a passion, whether it was true or not.   _We need to talk_ was usually a euphemism for _You’re in trouble_ or _I’m mad at you, but waiting to yell at you in private_.  Neither of those were true in this case.  The two of them really did need to talk, mostly about the Soulbond and what they wanted to do about it, if anything.

 

Barnes nodded., turning away.  The last thing Tony saw before the doors closed in front of them was Barnes pulling back his metal arm and punching the wall of his new prison.

 

He supposed the Hulk-proof containment had been a good idea, after all.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has been watching Barnes since they brought him back to the Tower. Today, finally, he's going to get a chance to talk with him in person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square K5: You are not boring at all, are you?

Tony watched Barnes on the monitor.  Right now, his Soulmate was talking to Steve, both of them huddled over a StarkPad while Steve caught his friend up on recent history, Sam watching casually from a corner of the room, occasionally ribbing Steve or heckling Barnes.  Tony had given the resident super soldiers restricted access to mostly neutral reporting sources, similar to what SHIELD had done for Steve when he’d first come out of the ice.  He didn’t know what might trigger the Winter Soldier again, and he didn’t want to be responsible for Captain America landing in the hospital if Barnes lost it.

In the air next to him, the video of his parents’ deaths was playing over and over again.  Tony didn’t know why he kept watching it; there was no new information to be gained.  He’d tried his best to hold onto the initial anger, but when he looked at Barnes, all he saw was the Winter Soldier.  And whether he liked it or not, he knew exactly what Barnes had been feeling at the time.  Nothing.  He was following orders.

Tony swallowed, closing his eyes as he remembered the icy nothingness of the Winter Soldier, the automaton that lived only to follow his handlers’ commands.  Even without all the torture that had come before, the hopelessness of knowing that nobody was coming for him, that he was presumed dead, lost to a wintery mountainside, Tony had felt that shivering need to follow the orders he’d been given, to _comply_ with Red Skull’s demands.  

And somewhere, buried under so many encryptions and scattered into so many pieces it would be almost impossible to find (almost, because he knew that he could find them if he had to, if he was ordered to), were blueprints for a weapon more devastating than anything the earth had ever seen, a combination of Stark brilliance and Chitauri technology that could obliterate entire countries in the right (wrong) hands.  The drive to create had been like a drum beating in the back of his skull, completed almost without conscious thought.  And thus far, he had been unable to destroy it, to delete all proof of its existence, something holding him back from erasing the knowledge.  Tony just prayed that it would never, ever see the light of day. 

So yes, Tony knew exactly what had been going through the Winter Soldier’s mind when he’d killed Howard and Maria Stark on a winding country road.  He hadn’t even recognized Howard when he’d killed him, too far gone to know or care who died at his hands.

But this Barnes, the one on the monitor, was a completely different person.  He was, for lack of a better word, _interesting_.  He saw things in a different light than most people, absorbed modern technology with an appetite that could only be called voracious, was willing to try almost anything once, and never backed down from a challenge.  Which was good, because Sam didn’t let him get away with anything.  Tony was really starting to like the pararescue vet, which was probably good, seeing as he was good friends with both Steve and Natasha.

On the screen, Barnes looked up, his head turning towards the front room and the elevators like a hunting dog catching a scent.  A moment later, Natasha walked in.  Barnes was up and on his feet in an instant, standing protectively in front of Steve.  Tony watched with something between amusement and consternation as the two assassins stared each other down, Steve looking between them worriedly.  Sam seemed relatively calm, but he’d straightened a bit from his slouched position.  “Buck, it’s okay.  She’s a friend,” Steve said.

Barnes didn’t even acknowledge Steve’s words, staring at the redhead.  “Natalia Romanova,” he said at last.  “It has been a long time.”

Natasha smiled.  “It has,” she agreed.  “And it’s Natasha Romanov now,” she corrected gently.  

Barnes absorbed this for a moment, then nodded his acceptance of the new designation.  “Natasha Romanov,” he repeated.  “You are the Black Widow.”

Natasha nodded.  “I am.  And you are James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.”

Barnes made a face.  “Bucky Barnes,” he said, and this time, it was Natasha who nodded.  Tony felt his eyebrows raising.  He had no idea what was going on, but he had the feeling that these two had some history between them.  Fascinating.

“I only came to see if perhaps you would like to join us for lunch,” Natasha said.  “It must be boring being cooped up in here with only Steve for company.”  Sam looked up, startled, and Tony swore silently, knowing that Natasha was betting on him watching them, because otherwise, there would be no way for them to leave with Barnes without the override code.

Barnes blinked, then frowned.  “Pretty sure I’m still under house arrest,” he drawled.

Natasha smiled.  “Only because you haven’t shown any desire to be out of these rooms,” she told him.  “Pretty sure that if you’d asked Tony, he’d have let you out of here days ago.”  Which was probably true, Tony admitted, if only to himself.  He hadn’t enjoyed locking Barnes up in the first place, and other than that first day, Barnes had proved himself a model inmate.  Even when something triggered the Soldier, he tended to just go still and lifeless rather than resorting to violence against the furniture or people, similar to how he’d been when Tony had first met him, just waiting.

The doors to his workshop opened, and Tony didn’t bother turning around.  There were a limited number of people who had unfettered access to his workshop, and two of them weren’t here.  “Hey, Doc,” he greeted.

“Tony,” Bruce replied as he moved forward, still cautious in a space that wasn’t his.

Tony turned around to smile at his best friend and science pal.  “What can I do for you?” he asked, closing the files that surrounded him and muting the recording.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably.  “Actually, I was thinking maybe you could take a look at Barnes’ arm,” he admitted.  “He’s been holding it awkwardly for a few days, and I don’t think my going in there is such a good idea.”

Tony frowned, turning back to the screen.  He hadn’t noticed anything unusual, but then again, he hadn’t been looking, either.  He tilted his head.  “You’re sure?” he checked.

Bruce nodded.  “He hides it very well,” he said.  “But he doesn’t use his left arm for much more than fixing food or lifting light items.  I’m guessing his range of motion is the most affected, but I don’t know without getting a closer look, and even then, it seems to be more your area than mine.”  Which, Tony had to admit, was a valid point.  While he had no doubt that Bruce _could_ work on the arm if necessary, engineering was kind of Tony’s field.

Tony sighed.  “Yeah, okay,” he agreed.  “I’ll take a look at it if Barnes will let me.”  He noticed Bruce’s frown and frowned back.  “What?” he asked.

“You still call him Barnes?” Bruce asked cautiously, as if he was afraid the question might make Tony angry.

Tony blinked.  “Well, yeah,” he said.  “And he still calls me Stark.  What of it?”

Bruce shook his head.  “Nothing,” he said.  “I just thought that maybe you were planning to give the Soulbond a chance.”

Tony frowned, his eyes drawn back to the screen, where Barnes was now standing between Steve and Sam, the three of them chatting with Natasha.  Barnes was gesturing with his right hand, and Tony sighed; Bruce had been right, there was something going on with his cybernetic arm.  “I don’t know,” he admitted, always more honest with Bruce than he was with just about anybody else.  “I mean, I’m starting to think that it might not be so bad, you know?  He seems like an interesting guy, and I’d like to think that he doesn’t think I’m some sort of monster, but that doesn’t change the fact that if Hydra wanted this, then it’s probably not a good idea.  Especially if they get hold of him again and use his control words.”

Silence, and Tony looked over to see Bruce staring at him worriedly.  “Tony,” Bruce said slowly, “are you saying that Hydra forcibly Soulbound you to the Winter Soldier because they were hoping his command words would work on you?”

Tony shrugged.  “I think so,” he said, uneasy. “Maybe.”

Bruce nodded.  “And do they?” he asked next, always the practical one.

Tony frowned.  “I don’t think I like where this is going,” he said.  Bruce just folded his arms over his chest, and Tony sighed.  “Sort of,” he admitted.  “I mean, I can usually shake it off, mostly, and Barnes is fighting them, too, but yeah, I can feel the Winter Soldier when his orders take hold.  But the whole reason we were being shot at was because we _weren’t_ obeying,” he stressed.  “And I’m pretty sure that as long as we can keep him out of Hydra’s hands, he’ll be okay.”

Bruce sighed, his arms dropping to his sides.  “Tony,” he started, then stopped.  His eyes flicked to the screen, where Natasha was leading the otherstowards the elevators.  “At least talk to him, take a look at his arm, okay?” Bruce asked.

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll….do that,” he said distractedly.  “J, let Barnes out, would you?  Override code Four-Romeo-Echo-Echo-Delta-Zero-Mike,” he ordered, ignoring Bruce’s sound of amusement, and the elevator doors on Barnes’ floor opened up.  The Soldier paused, then looked right at one of Jarvis’ cameras and raised an eyebrow.  Tony let the amusement slide through him and watched as the corner of Barnes’ lips twitched upwards.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, looking back.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” Barnes told him, shoving Steve playfully towards the back of the elevator while Natasha stepped neatly to the side and Sam twisted out of the way, complaining that if he was going to die, it damn well wasn’t going to be because he wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way of Captain America.  The camera view automatically shifted into the elevator as the doors closed.  Barnes looked over at Natasha.  “What’s for lunch?” he asked. 

Natasha shrugged. “I thought I’d leave that up to you,” she said casually, but her eyes were sharp, and Tony realized that she was testing him.  Tony smirked; Barnes didn’t have an marked preference on a lot of things, but food was definitely one of them.  Which he’d discovered when they were in their Hydra-appointed cell together and he’d insisted that the first thing he was going to do when they escaped was find the nearest hamburger joint in eat his weight in cheeseburgers.

“What’ve you got for Italian around here?” Barnes asked.  He paused.  “Good Italian,” he stressed.  “I’ve been wantin’ some tiramisu, and it’s hard to find the real thing.”

Steve grinned, slinging an arm around Barnes’ shoulders.  Tony tried not to be jealous.  “Lucky for you, Tony knows all the best places around here,” he said.  He looked up towards the ceiling.  “Jarvis, can you place an order from that little bistro Thor and I visited a few weeks ago?”

“ _Of course, Captain,_ ” the AI answered politely.  “ _I shall be sure to include extra servings of tiramisu as well, shall I?_ ”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Steve said.  “Thanks.”

“ _You are most welcome, Captain,_ ” Jarvis replied.  Tony’s visual abruptly cut off, and he rolled his eyes, but took the hint, standing up and stretching the kinks out of his back, very pointedly ignoring Bruce, who was waiting for him by the door with a knowing look.  But he didn’t say anything as he walked with Tony down the hall towards the elevators that would bring them up to the common floor.  Tony used the time to figure out what he was going to say, though it was probably pointless.  The moment he opened his mouth, it was more stream-of-conscious than well-thought-out words that came out.

The moment he stepped out into the lobby, he found himself frozen, staring at his Soulmate, who was staring right back, drinking him in like he hadn’t seen him in months, instead of just days.  Tony barely even noticed as Bruce slipped past him, aiding Natasha in pulling Steve away and towards the kitchen to get plates and silverware for the food that would be arriving shortly.

“Hey there,” Tony said at last.  “I hear we’re having Italian.” 

Barnes grinned, a quick flash of amusement before his expression evened out into something not-quite-neutral.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Figured your….Jarvis knows what you like from the place Stevie was talkin’ about,” he said, and Tony was warmed by the fact that Barnes acknowledged Jarvis the same as he would a person.  Most people who hadn’t met him thought he was just a really advanced computer, like Siri or Alexa.  But Jarvis was a true Artificial Intelligence, capable of not only learning, but also independent thought and action.

Tony chuckled.  “Yeah, there’ll be some risotto in there,” he said.  He could see Barnes filing the information away for later, but it didn’t bother him.  His liking risotto wasn’t exactly blackmail material.

“ _The food has arrived, sir,_ ” Jarvis announced a moment later, just as the elevator doors opened, revealing Clint, whose arms were loaded with their food.  Both Tony and Barnes moved to grab it before he dropped it, and Clint grinned at them.

“Whose idea was Italian?” he asked.  “And please tell me somebody ordered bread.”

“What are you, a plebe?” Barnes scowled.  “Of course there’s bread.  Better than the stuff they call bread in America,” he complained.

Tony snickered.  “You, my friend, have obviously not tried homemade garlic bread.”  

Barnes looked at him.  “Isn’t that Italian, too?” he asked.

Tony paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently. Natasha was the one that explained.  “Garlic bread didn’t actually originate in Italy,” she said gently, glaring at Tony like Barnes’ lack of knowledge was somehow his fault.  Tony refused to feel guilty; he was doing what he could to get Barnes caught up on everything he’d missed since the war; food was definitely not anywhere on the list.  “Italian bread is usually baked plain and served without butter.  That’s strictly an American interpretation.”

Barnes nodded.  “Yeah, seems to be a lot of that goin’ around,” he muttered, obediently moving into the living room and setting the bags of food he was carrying on the table where Natasha indicated.  Tony followed suit, and then allowed himself to be herded onto the couch alongside Barnes.  And if he sat a bit closer than might normally be considered proper, well, that was fine, right?  After all, Barnes was his Soulmate, at least for the moment.  But mostly, Tony just wanted to see how he’d handle having Tony in his personal space.

Natasha and Clint both gave him pointed looks which he gleefully ignored as he set about rummaging through the various bags and containers until he came up with his prize.  He handed a large container of tiramisu to Barnes, then asked, “What else do you want?”

“Dunno,” Barnes admitted promptly.  “Kinda want to try everythin’.  I’m not ‘xactly a picky eater.”

Tony snorted.  “Sure you aren’t,” he agreed, his tone heavy on the sarcasm.  Barnes gave him another quick grin, and Tony tried to ignore the way it sent a bolt of pleasure through him.

Barnes leaned in.  “You testin’ me, Stark?” he drawled quietly, his hand just barely brushing against Tony’s hip.

Tony looked at him from under his lashes.  “Of course not,” he replied haughtily.  “I’m simply sitting here because Natasha made me.  And I don’t tell her no, especially when she’s holding pointy objects.”

“Which is always,” Natasha said.  Tony held out his hands in emphasis, and Barnes just shook his head, opening his container and digging in with relish.  Tony found his own container and scooped up a spoonful of the creamy rice, watching Barnes eat from the corner of his eye.  Across their fledgling bond, he could feel the enjoyment that the other man was getting from the sweet dessert, and the first bite of his risotto was a lot tastier than he remembered.

The others gathered together, drawn by the smell of food.  They settled themselves on the furniture and the floor, sprawling comfortably around the food, talking about nothing in particular.  Nobody seemed to think it was weird to have the Winter Soldier eating with them, and after the first few minutes of trying to decide how he felt about that, Tony just gave a mental shrug and dug into his food with renewed enthusiasm.

He had almost forgotten that Barnes was even seated next to him until the other man leaned over and neatly snitched a bite of risotto from Tony’s spoon.  “Hey!” Tony protested, “Get your own!”

Barnes shrugged.  “Too far away,” he drawled, his foot nudging Steve’s ribs until the other man sighed and held up the remainder of his sandwich, which disappeared in a matter of seconds.  Barnes glanced over at Tony, who had finished his risotto and was happily munching on a breadstick, flipping idly through a list of movies.  Since they were all together anyhow, tonight would probably end up being a movie night, with everybody munching on popcorn and heckling the actors on television.

“Star Trek,” Barnes spoke up abruptly, and Tony looked over at him in surprise, opening his mouth to make a smart-ass quip and instead getting a mouthful of dark, rich tiramisu.  Tony bit down on the spoon Barnes had stuck in mouth, rising to the obvious challenge.  He let his tongue slide along the spoons edge, flicking against his lower lip before pulling back, taking the sweet dessert and swallowing it, his eyes half-lidded as he met Barnes’ stare.  He couldn’t tell if the bolt of longing that shot through him was his own or Barnes’, but it didn’t really matter, he supposed.

He tipped his head.  “You’ve seen Star Trek?” he asked, genuinely curious.  Barnes had fallen from the train nearly two decades before that, and would have still been under Hydra’s influence in 1966, when the show had first aired.

Barnes shrugged, looking uncomfortable now as the others paused to hear his answer.  “Gemini 8,” he said bluntly.  “Which was a clusterfuck from the beginnin’, but I was...out of th’ ice for long enough that I saw an episode or two.  It was pretty amazin’ for its time,” he added.

“I can’t disagree with that,” Tony said, “but it’s gotten a lot better than you remember.  Well, digitally remastered and whatnot,” he said, waving his hand in a generalized ‘movie magic’ gesture.  “You can’t see the strings anymore, for one thing,” he grinned.

“No, really?” Barnes drawled laconically.  Tony laughed, delighted.  Barnes was a sarcastic little shit.

He tilted his head to look at Steve.  “He always been like this?” he asked innocently.

Steve grinned.  “Sarcastic and rude?” he asked.  “Yeah, except when he was wooing the ladies.  Then he was sweet and charming and funny.”  He said that like he was quoting somebody else, like he’d never seen that side of Barnes before and was skeptical that it existed.

“Hey, I’m charmin’ when I gotta be,” Barnes protested.  “Not my fault you preferred scrappin’ in back alleys with guys three times as big and twice as ugly as you over spendin’ time with the ladies.”  

“Did Cap here really take on some guy with only a trash can lid for being too loud in a movie theater?” Sam asked, an amused glint in his eyes as he ducked away from Steve’s half-hearted grab.

“Stevie here got beat up in every back alley in Brooklyn,” Barnes informed the room primly, then turned back to Tony.  “So….Star Trek?” he asked.

Tony grinned and started the first episode.  As the room slowly settled down, he shifted a bit closer to Barnes, dropping his head to the other man’s shoulder.  He felt confusion, and a little bit of trepidation, but after a moment, it eased into something more comfortable, warm and a little bit...happy?  Content, perhaps.  Barnes shifted just a bit, careful not to dislodge Tony, then turned to watch the show, joining the others in tearing apart the actors and the special effects with ruthless efficiency.  

Tony just settled in with a pleased smile, satisfied to have had his suspicions confirmed.  Whatever else Barnes might be, he was definitely not boring.

Maybe this Soulbond would work out, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bucky are willing to give this Soulmates thing a chance. The first step? Date Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square A4: Date Night

Tony frowned at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his spiked hair and trying to ignore the tense ball of nerves in his stomach.  He wasn’t sure he could go through with this.

“You’re fine, Tony,” Natasha told him for the umpteenth time, taking Pepper’s usual place as Tony-wrangler and encourager.  Not that Tony hadn’t tried to get Pepper to come help him not make a fool of himself, but she was on the other side of the country right now on business, and not even Tony offering to send the Avengers Quinjet for her had swayed her to his cause.  So he had Natasha, who Pepper had apparently called after hanging up on Tony.  “He is not going to care what you look like.”

Tony scowled at her.  “I’m not worried,” he denied, but they both knew that wasn’t true.  Tonight, for the first time, he was going on a date with his Soulmate.  Forced Soulbond or not, whatever Hydra had done appeared to be permanent, and after a long, painstaking conversation that Tony would have preferred to skip altogether, they had decided to go ahead and see if they couldn’t make the Bond stronger, in the hopes that it would work like a normal Soulbond and give them both what they needed, even if they didn’t know what that was, yet.  Soulbonds weren’t an exact science, by any means, something which had always frustrated Tony, even back when he’d had his Mark, before it had been lost to shrapnel and the arc reactor.

After the Star Trek marathon, the others had not-so-subtly made their escape, leaving Tony and Barnes to stare awkwardly at one another, neither one knowing where to start.  Tony had finally spoken first (he had never been capable of keeping his mouth shut, even when he might’ve been better off if he had), offering to take a look at Barnes’ arm.  Barnes had accepted, and Tony had led the way down to his workshop.

He’d been worried that Barnes might take one look at the workshop and freak out a bit (it wasn’t a lab, but it still had a lot of shiny surfaces and humming machines), but Barnes had seemed almost at home.  Tony hadn’t asked if that was because of the Soulbond, or something else, he’d just run a few scans on Barnes’ metal arm to get an in-depth look at its mechanisms and started working on it.

DUM-E and U had rolled over curiously, and after the initial startle, Barnes had stared at them with fascination.  DUM-E, always eager to make a new friend, had handed Barnes a socket wrench, then rocked on his treads expectantly.  Barnes had looked at the bot, then looked at Tony, who wordlessly took the tool and handed Barnes a large stress ball instead.  Barnes took the ball, looked back at DUM-E, then gave a one-armed shrug - Tony was still messing with the wiring in the other one - and tossed the ball across the lab, against a wall that wasn’t near anything made of glass.  The bounce back had knocked a bunch of metal parts off a table and onto the floor, but DUM-E made more of a mess than that on a regular basis, so Tony wasn’t terribly concerned, ignoring that part of him that whispered  _ punishment _ until Barnes eased back a little.

DUM-E grabbed the ball and trundled back over to Barnes, holding it out for him to take.  U, in the meantime, was busy picking up (or trying to, anyways) the various bolts and tools from the floor and putting them back on the workbench.

When Barnes made no move to take the ball from him, DUM-E whirred sadly, his arm drooping in dejection.  Tony rolled his eyes.  “Quit that, DUM-E.  Barnes here just doesn’t know how to play.”  DUM-E had perked up a bit at that, holding the ball out hopefully, this time towards Tony.  With a put-upon sigh that absolutely nobody believed for a second, he took the ball and threw it as hard as he could towards the far wall.  More components clattered the floor, and U gave a sharp, happy whistle at the wanton destruction.

The next time DUM-E brought the ball over, Barnes held out his hand, and that set off an hour-long game of catch while Tony worked on Barnes’ arm, pleased when he discovered that Barnes could lock it so it didn’t move while he messed with it.

Tony had been able to fix the most immediate problems - crossed wires and a couple of bent plates - but he had quickly realized that there was a lot of fine work that needed to be done, and that he didn’t have enough information to attempt the more detailed repairs yet.  So he had Jarvis do a more detailed scan of Barnes’ arm, with the Soldier’s permission, and then let the AI analyze it while he and Barnes’ had talked.  It hadn’t been an easy conversation, by any means - Tony still had a hard time reconciling the man in front of him with his parents’ deaths - but by the end of it, they had a tentative sort of trust between them.

So they had decided to give the Soulmates thing a chance.  Of course, neither of them really knew what being Soulbound meant - Tony’s parents hadn’t been Soulmates, and Barnes couldn’t remember if he’d ever met other Soulmates before.  And stories were just that.  Stories.  So they’d have to figure out what it meant for themselves.

Which had led to this.  Date night.

Tony sighed, and Natasha held out her hand expectantly, the other one carrying a watch.  “Brings back memories, huh?” Tony teased.

Natasha arched an eyebrow at him.  “I would think that you don’t remember much about your birthday that year,” she shot back, and Tony grinned.  That had definitely been one of his worse ideas.  But Rhodey had gotten the War Machine armor, and Pepper had nearly written him off (and probably would have, if it wasn’t for  _ someone _ letting it slip that he’d been dying at the time), and so in the end, he had counted it as a success.

“I have a good memory,” Tony said.  “And I wasn’t as drunk as I appeared.”  That much, at least, was true.  He’d been dying, but he hadn’t been actively encouraging it.  Not really.  And getting roaring drunk while wearing the Iron Man suit would have probably ended with him swan diving off the balcony of his Malibu mansion.  Though he was reasonably certain that Jarvis would have saved him if he had really taken things that far.

Natasha smiled, straightening his tie.  “I know,” she said, “but it was still very convincing.”  Coming from a super spy, that was practically glowing praise.  Leaning up, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.  “It will be fine,” she murmured in his ear.  “Trust me.”

Tony gave her a rueful smile.  “It’s not you I don’t trust,” he said with a sigh before heading for the door, resisting the urge to just say to hell with it all and change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  He’d promised Barnes a proper date, and that meant going all out.  Nice clothes, chauffeured limousine ride, fancy restaurant, expensive wine, a walk under the moonlight.  All the trappings that came with dating a billionaire, really.

Barnes was waiting for him when he strolled into the common room to pick up his date, and Tony stopped dead in his tracks, just staring.  Barnes looked back at him shyly, shifting awkwardly, his hands clasped around a folded piece of paper.  He was dressed in a light-colored charcoal suit with subtle pinstripes that matched the pale storm-grey of his eyes.  Somebody had obviously taken him to the tailor’s, because the suit didn’t leave much of anything to the imagination, smoothing over broad shoulders and tapering down to a slender waist.  The pants caressed thick thighs, and Tony made a spinning motion with his hand.  Barnes turned obediently in a slow circle, and Tony’s mouth went dry.  That ass was to _die_ _for_.  “Oh my god,” he managed.

Barnes quirked one side of his mouth up in a lopsided grin that never failed to charm Tony.  “Not quite,” he disagreed, “but if you insist.”

With great effort, Tony managed to drag his way away from the way the suit hugged Barnes’ curves - seriously, that man could give  _ Steve Rogers _ a run for his money - and up to the man’s eyes.  “You look...nice,” he managed, feeling the heat creep up his face.  He felt like a teenager trying to ask his first crush out for a movie or something.   _ ‘Pull it together, Stark,’ _ he told himself firmly.  “Ah, I mean, that is to say that you always look nice, but this is just...wow.  I mean, seriously.  You are like a greek god or something.  They should make art of you.  Or something.”  He stammered to a halt as he reached the bottom of the staircase, his jaw working as he bit back the nervous babbling.

Barnes smiled, slow and almost predatory, his eyes assessing Tony openly.  “You don’t look so bad yourself, dollface,” he murmured, and Tony tried to ignore the warmth that fluttered in his chest at the soft words.  Barnes worried his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, obviously working up the nerve to say something, and Tony barely resisted the urge to lean up and kiss him, to coax that lip out so that Tony could soothe it.  Or maybe bite it himself.  He hadn’t really decided yet.

Barnes glanced down at the paper he’d been turning over in his hands, then looked up.  “Before we go, I just wanted to say...thank you,” he said, throwing Tony’s concentration.  “This means a lot to me.”  Before Tony could ask, Barnes held out the piece of paper.  Tony took it, suppressing the shudder that wanted to work its way through his shoulders and down his spine as he accepted.  Opening it, he skimmed down the paper, pausing on the signature at the bottom.

“Oh.  Your pardon,” Tony murmured.  He paused, looking sharply up at Barnes.  “You know I did this because it’s the right thing to do, right?” he asked.  When Barnes just looked confused, he clarified.  “I didn’t do it so you’d feel obligated or anything.  I just...want to make sure you know that.”  He didn’t know why it was so important to him that Barnes not feel indebted to him for doing something that he probably would’ve done anyhow, even if Barnes hadn’t been his Soulmate.  Barnes was, quite literally, the longest held POW in, like, ever.

Realization dawned slowly, and Barnes smiled.  “You’re worried that I’ll think you’re tryin’ to bribe me, and that I’ll go along with it ‘cause I’m  _ grateful _ ?” he asked.  Tony nodded, grimacing.  He realized that it sounded dumb, but he was pretty sure that Barnes hadn’t had a lot of choices, and that he’d probably done a lot of things - and had a lot of things done to him - and been told he should be  _ grateful _ for it.  Tony didn’t want to be that guy, didn’t want to hold a Presidential Pardon over his head like some sort of blackmail.  Barnes had been Hydra’s prisoner and slave, their Asset.

Bucky took two steps forward, and he was suddenly right there, and Tony was cranking his neck back to look up at him.  Barnes smiled.  “Well, if you want us to be equal and all, maybe you oughta start calling me by my name,” he suggested, raising one eyebrow in challenge.

Tony blinked, then smirked.  “What?  _ Bucky _ ?” he asked.  “What sort of grown-ass man goes by the name  _ Bucky _ ?”

The soldier shrugged.  “One who doesn’t want a common name like James?” he tried.  

Tony considered that.  “You...might have a point,” he conceded reluctantly.  “It’s still ridiculous,” he added mulishly, wanting to wipe that triumphant smirk off of Barnes’ - Bucky’s - face.

The other man just grinned.  “Thanks, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he dropped his gaze to meet Tony’s, grey eyes soft and filled with more warmth than Tony had seen in weeks.  There was a brief moment, then, when Tony considered just cancelling their date night and staying in.  Bucky didn’t like crowds anyhow, right?  Right.

“Aw, come on!” Clint whined, walking into the room with Sam by his side.  “Aren’t you two supposed to be somewhere that’s not here?”

Tony glared at the archer after sparing a sharp look for his date - who had obviously heard Barton coming, since the blonde didn’t currently have a bullet hole in home - and sniffed.  “In case you’d forgotten, this is kind of my Tower,” he pointed out.  “You all are a bunch of freeloaders.”

“I hear it’s only about eighty-eight percent your Tower,” Clint sniped back.  

“Yes, because the other twelve percent belongs to Pepper, because this is her baby.  That still makes it zero percent yours, Barton,” Tony informed him crisply.  Sam was just watching the play-by-play, something like glee crossing his expression.

“Hah,” Clint said. “Eighty-eight percent your Tower, and you still don’t know where the pool is!”

Tony blinked, distracted by the new data.  “Pool?” he asked.  “We have a pool?  J?”

“There is an Olympic sized pool on the fifty-third floor, sir,” the AI informed him crisply.  “I believe your exact words were ‘ _ It’s like a beach, but without the sand’. _ ”  Tony could hear the judgment.  Jarvis was totally judging him.

He narrowed his eyes.  “That’s enough sass out of you, Jarvis,” he said.

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis replied blandly.  

Tony opened his mouth to say something witty, he was sure, and Barnes -  _ Bucky, get it right, Stark _ \- grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward two steps, until he was pressed right up against all that smooth expanse of muscle.  Tony blinked up at him, and Barnes grinned.  “You promised me a date, Stark,” he murmured.  “I’m gonna hold you to it.”

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, date.  Right.  I planned it, there are plans.  We should go do those.  The plans.”  He could feel the amusement seeping through their Bond, and a curl of pleasure settled in his chest, just under the reactor.  This Bucky was much better than the cold isolation of the Winter Soldier, and while Bucky sometimes slipped back into Soldier mode, he could usually be brought out of it pretty quickly, especially if Tony was nearby.  It worked the other way, too, if something sent Tony into a panic spin.  Bucky could bring him out of it, just by being nearby, even if he didn’t say a word.  It was, in a word, fascinating, and Tony was having a really hard time seeing a downside beyond a distinct lack of privacy.  It was a bit hard to mask your feelings when your partner could sense them, regardless of what was actually being said.

Clint was saying something, but Tony was too busy ogling his Soulmate to care.  Grey eyes lifted and looked right at the archer, cold as ice, but Tony could feel the amusement and irritation underneath.  And Clint miraculously shut up, letting Bucky pull Tony into the elevator without another word.  Bucky backed up against the far wall, Tony still pressed up against him and his hands gripping Tony’s hips as he looked down at him, his eyes warming as they crinkled at the corners with a smile.  “What’s that look for?” he asked.

“You shut Clint up,” Tony said, still in awe.  Here he had thought Clint would have to be dead before he stopped with the teasing.

Bucky snorted.  “Natalia’s been telling him stories, I think,” he said.

“About you?” Tony asked, confused.  Then he remembered something Natasha had said a long time ago.  “Oh, right! You shot her or something, right?” he asked.  He had heard the information secondhand, and so hadn’t put much stock in it, but knowing what he knew now, he could believe that the Winter Soldier had been a match for the Black Widow.

Bucky snorted.  “More like shot through ‘er,” he murmured, but his hands were smoothing up Tony’s ribs, so he wasn’t paying terribly much attention.  “Target was on th’ other side.”

The mood in the elevator took a distinctly non-sexy turn, and Tony mock glared up at the soldier.  “Stop that!” he complained.  “I do not want our first  _ date _ date to be ruined by Natasha Romanov.  Besides,” he added, “she jabbed me with a needle, so we’ll just call it even, shall we?”  He gave Bucky a small smile to show that he wasn’t upset, and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

“Now you’ve gotta tell me,” he insisted as the elevator slid to a smooth stop and opened up to Tony’s personal garage.  There were a couple of different floors dedicated to employee parking, and another one just for the Avengers, but this floor was where Tony kept his own personal collection, including his prized Shelby and a couple of Rolls Royce’s.  Bucky’s attention was immediately diverted at the sight of so many gleaming cars lined up in neat little rows.  Tony was sure there was some sort of reason to it, but he didn’t park them, so he didn’t care.  

Bucky pulled away from Tony’s side, making the billionaire shiver at the loss of warmth.  But Bucky’s eyes were wide with wonder as he ran his flesh hand over the fender of the bright orange Saleen S7.  “Which one’re we takin’?” he asked, his Brooklyn drawl becoming more pronounced with his excitement.  Tony was glad he’d been right about Bucky’s love of fast cars.

“Whichever one you like,” he said magnanimously.  Then he glanced at his watch.  “You have seven minutes to decide,” he added with a grin.

“Any o’ them?” Bucky checked with him first. When Tony just nodded, he let out a loud whoop and hurried down the rows of cars, trying to look at everything at once.  Tony made a mental note to bring the guy down here when they didn’t have places to be, so he could explore to his heart’s content.  Tony was pretty sure there was a Cadillac here somewhere that needed some work done; he could work, and Bucky could swoon over the cars.

Bucky had finally stopped in front of one of the cars, and Tony grabbed the appropriate key out of the storage box before strolling over to stand next to him, admiring the sleek body of the Tesla Roadster.  “Good choice,” Tony nodded.  “Fast, and uses electricity instead of fossil fuel,” he pointed out, holding out the key.  Bucky looked at him, then looked at the key in his hand, the car, and back to Tony, who just wiggled the key again.  When Bucky reached for it with his metal hand, Tony let it go.  “You drive,” he said.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Bucky told him, “but I don’t know where we’re going.”

_ “I believe I will be able to assist you with that, Sergeant,” _ Jarvis spoke up from the garage’s speakers, and Bucky startled.   _ “Inside, you will find a navigation device.  Directions are already input,” _ he added.

Bucky shrugged.  “Huh,” he mused.  “Better ‘n tryin’ to use a road map, leastaways.”

Tony rolled his eyes, even as he settled in the passenger seat.  “A road map, seriously?  What did you do, carry around an Atlas on your missions?” he snarked.

“Naw, that was what the couriers did,” Bucky told him, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine with a low purr.  Pleasure flickered across their Bond, and Tony was glad he’d let Bucky choose their ride.  The Tesla wasn’t his favorite, but it was nice enough, and really, there wasn’t a single car here that Tony wouldn’t drive.  “It was their job to get us where we were goin’, and to clean up afterwards,” he added.

Tony grinned sharply.  “Sounds like SHIELD,” he said.

Bucky waggled his eyebrows.  “Pretty sure it was,” he agreed, which startled a harsh laugh out of Tony.  Bucky had a point, given how deeply imbedded Hydra had been in SHIELD’s operations.

“Ouch,” he commented as they reached the garage ramp, Bucky glancing at the dashboard to check which way they were going before pulling smoothly out into the evening traffic.  Tony settled further into his seat, content to let Bucky have control of the wheel, and the conversation.  Which he did by returning to their previous conversation.

“Why did Natalia jab you with a needle?” Bucky asked, his tone caught somewhere between worry and anger.

Tony shrugged.  “She was buying me time to find a way to not die,” he said.  Bucky’s hands tightened dangerously on the wheel, and Tony winced. “Easy there, tiger,” he murmured.  “Look, it’s...kinda a long story.  Are you sure you want to hear it?”

Bucky glanced at the map display.  “S’long as we’ve got time,” he agreed.  Which meant Tony had about twelve minutes to condense the longest several months of his life.  He’d better talk fast.

Tony took a deep breath and began.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Night doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square T2: Labyrinth

“I guess this means you’ll just have to take a rain check!” Tony called, dodging out of the way as a massive paw swiped at him.  He scowled, looking down at his torn suit. “Dammit, I liked this suit,” he muttered.

 

“You can buy another one!” Bucky told him, his metal arm taking the brunt of the next attack, his gun in the other hand as he targeted the beast’s vulnerable spots.  The fucking _minotaur_ just shook off the hail of bullets with a roar, lowering his head and charging at the two idiot humans in his way, horns raking through the air.  “Just...call the armor or something!” Bucky ordered.

 

“Well, I would call the armor if I could!” Tony snapped.  “But something is blocking the signal.” Those nanites he’d been working on would keep this nonsense from happening, but he still had to construct the shielded casing for them.  Which meant that the Labyrinth that had suddenly sprouted in the middle of Central Park during their after-dinner romantic walk in the moonlight was apparently blocking his signal.  Fortunately, Jarvis had protocols in place for when he lost his connection to Tony, so a suit should be sent to his last known location. Provided they survived that long.

 

“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky said, getting in a good shot through the Minotaur’s eye.  The beast roared in pain and rage, stumbling backwards and flailing wildly. One clawed hand clipped Bucky hard enough to send him to the ground, his hand clutching at his now bleeding shoulder.

 

Tony scrambled closer, dodging another blind swipe as he got his arms under Bucky and dragged him back a ways, towards the bushes.  Bucky pulled away from his hold, and Tony felt the Winter Soldier slide over his Soulmate. It left him clear-headed and coldly focused as he stared at their opponent, his mind whirling with calculations.

 

Bucky was back up on his feet, a knife held in his metal hand.  Tony held out a hand expectantly. “Gun,” he said. He could feel Bucky’s considering gaze, but the minotaur was coming to its senses, and he was still unarmed.  “Barnes, give me a gun. Now.” His tone left no room for argument, and he felt Bucky yield. A moment later, he tightened his grip on a Sig-Sauer. He made a mental note to make some better weapons for the Soldier.  A Sig-Sauer wasn’t a bad gun, but he could do so much better.

 

The minotaur glared at them through his one good eye, one massive hoof pawing at the ground as he snorted, lowering his giant head.  “We are going to have a talk about your arsenal,” Tony told his partner. “Later.” And then they were moving again, twisting out of the way.  The minotaur might be big and fast, but he wasn’t particular good with turns. Tony was already taking aim as the beast skidded on the pavement, digging grooves into the asphalt before crashing into the hedgerow.  And that was another thing. What sort of plant life could block a signal to Jarvis? There had to be something else going on.

 

“I was forbidden to carry my usual arsenal,” the Winter Soldier confessed with a sort of detached anger, as if he knew he should be angry, but couldn’t be bothered to make the effort.  And things suddenly made sense.

 

“Rogers,” he said flatly.  The Soldier gave a sharp nod, his knife scraping across the minotaur’s spine.  Having finally gotten turned around, the minotaur swung his massive head from side to side and gave a deep bellow.  Tony was already moving, watching for a weakness he could exploit. He wasn’t a rapid-healing super soldier; one strike with a sharp horn or a dinner plate sized hoof, and he’d be so much paste on the pavement.

 

The sizzle of pain across his ribs came a shock, and Tony jerked with a surprised shout, twisting out of the way.  He peered down at his side, which was a bloody, ragged mess. He couldn't see bone, thank goodness, but the wounds were deep, almost like claw marks across his ribs.

 

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might be going into shock.  “Ow,” he muttered, his gun dropping to his side, though his fingers clenched around it reflexively, not releasing it.  “What?” He looked up - nobody ever looked up, it was a serious failing of landbound humans - and caught a glimpse of the metallic spheres.  As he watched, a small slot opened up in the side, and lasers shot out of them, strafing across the space where the Winter Soldier had been a moment before.

 

Tony scowled.  “I’ll help you kill him,” he muttered to the other man, raising the Sig.  A quick spray of bullets, and three of them went down in tiny explosions. Behind him, the minotaur and the Winter Soldier were clashing with a horrible thudding noise, claws versus metal.  Tony risked a quick look back and saw Barnes with his thighs clamped firmly around the minotaur’s head, his gun pointed straight down as he held onto one horn with his metal hand, trying to shoot without getting thrown at the same time.

 

Over the sounds of the battle, Tony heard the faint roar of repulsors.  And the even fainter rumble of the Quinjet. It looked like Jarvis had notified the team after all.  And that was why he was Tony’s favorite.

 

Taking out another four of the laser wielding orbs while dodging a kicking hoof, Tony just hoped the others managed to find whoever had decided that a labyrinth in the city was a good idea.  He had ruined Tony’s first date in years, and the genius was going to make sure he knew just how very Not Happy Tony was.

 

But first, he thought, as the minotaur crashed to the ground, Bucky riding him down like he was a fucking cowboy - which was really just unfairly hot - he he was going to let Bucky ream out the Captain.  Because Bucky was right. Two guns and a couple of knives were _not_ enough of an arsenal for a couple of superheroes, dammit.

 

Maybe date night wasn’t a complete wash, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is pissed. Tony is delighted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square R5: Writing Format: Drabble

Bucky stormed up to Steve, who looked at him in confusion.

“Bucky?” he asked as Bucky jabbed him in the chest with a metal finger.

“This is your fault,” Bucky snarled.  Steve frowned.

“I don’t –“ Steve started, but Bucky glared and he wisely shut up.

“All. Your. Fault.” Bucky reiterated.

Steve scowled.  “What am I supposed to say?” he demanded, exasperated.  Bucky gave him a look, and he sighed. “Fine. You were right, I was wrong,” he said.

Bucky turned to Tony.  “You got that, doll?” he asked.  Tony smirked wickedly and held up his phone.

Steve just sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that I had exactly 100 words to write this chapter, I'll add a few things here.
> 
> 1) Yes, Tony is still injured  
> 2) He was being checked out by medical while Bucky was bawling Steve out. Close enough to hear what was happening and still had his phone on him  
> 3) Jarvis was piloting the armor - the fight was mostly done by the time the Avengers arrived  
> 4) Yes, they caught the main villain that thought a Labyrinth with a Minotaur as its guardian was a good idea  
> 5) Yes, Tony is going to have WORDS with said villain as soon as medical clears him (or before, because who wants to wait for medical clearance?)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their battle in the Labyrinth, Bucky takes care of Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square A5: More Than a Partner

“I’m fine!” Tony insisted, very deliberately not hissing when Bruce’s gentle hands pressed against his side as he re-wrapped his bandages.

“You are not fine,” Bruce disagreed with a small smile.  “You were shot.  Four times, even.  You’re lucky they were lasers and cauterized the wounds, but there’s still a chance of infection or further damage if you continue to ignore the fact that you were, indeed, shot.  Did I mention that you were shot?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled.  “Not like it’s the first time.” Heck, compared to being blown up in Afghanistan, this was _nothing_.

Bruce just gave a noncommittal hum, smoothing over Tony’s bandages and dropping his hands just as Bucky walked in, carrying a tray of food.  “Don’t let him fool you,” Bucky advised, the traitor.  “He’s hurtin’.”

Tony glared at him, but it wasn’t terribly effective, considering Bucky wasn’t even looking at him, bent over to set the tray of food - soup and sandwiches - on the bed next to him.  So he focused on sending dark thoughts through the bond,  trying to ignore the warmth that pooled in his chest.  Judging by the fondly amused look Bucky shot him, he had failed on both counts.  Tony narrowed his eyes.  “You know, for an unfeeling, brainwashed assassin, you’re surprisingly sassy,” he observed.

“Must be your influence, then,” Bucky deadpanned.  “You should be grateful it’s not the other way ‘round,” he added.  “Wouldn’t want this mess in your head.”

Tony frowned, not liking the way Bucky so casually dismissed his trauma.  Not that Tony was one to talk, with all the stuff that was in his head these days, but he also hadn’t been at Hydra’s non-existent mercy for the past seventy years.  

Before he could say anything, Bruce spoke up.  “Thank you, James,” he said warmly.  “Please make sure that Tony eats and gets some rest.  If you could stay nearby, that would be great.  I think your ability to section off pain might actually be helping him right now. And you’ll know if he starts getting worse.”

Tony looked at Bruce in surprise.  “What that’s supposed to mean?” he asked.

Bruce just looked at him somberly.  “I keep telling you, Tony.  Those injuries are worse than you seem to think they are.  You should have been in shock, or unconscious.  You had what amounted to four bullet holes in you, you’re lucky no organs were hit.  I know about the supplies in your armor; I even helped stock them, if you recall.  But you didn’t have your armor with you, and yet, you’re sitting here complaining while I treat and bandage up the holes in your side.  This is more than simple denial, Tony.  It’s almost like your body doesn’t even realize it’s injured.  Normally, I’d say that wasn’t a good thing, but since you’re here and not still out there fighting, I’ll just be glad for it.”

Tony turned to look at Bucky, who just stared blankly back at him. He narrowed his eyes.  “That seems a bit unfair,” he said.  “I feel like you’re cheating, somehow.”

Bucky tipped his head to the side.  Tony probably shouldn’t find that half as charming as he did.  “Why would you think that?” he asked guilelessly.  Tony didn’t believe him for a second.  He flopped back on the bed - carefully, mind you, he wasn’t so unaware as to do himself further damage.

“Fine,” he grouched.  “I’ll behave.  For now.”  It was both a promise and a threat, and Bruce accepted with a nod.  He said his goodbyes, told Bucky to have Jarvis call him if he was needed, then left.  Tony looked at Bucky.  “Feed me,” he demanded.

Bucky settled on the bed next to him, and Tony immediately twisted around, wincing as it pulled at his injuries, until he was settled more or less upright, leaning back against Bucky’s side.  “Well, this brings back memories,” he muttered, flashing back to the last time he’d been injured, following his capture by Hydra and Red Skull.  That time, though, he hadn’t had Bucky.  Instead, he’d had a bunch of commands in his head all clamoring for attention, and no strength to carry them out.  As soon as he’d been cleared - by himself, if not by actual medical - he’d left and locked himself in the lab, tinkering with technology he’d not touched in years.  He wondered if Bucky had been privy to those hectic days where he’d been locked in an engineering fugue. 

“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” Bucky told him, holding up a plate from the tray so Tony could take a sandwich.

“Blasphemy,” Tony mumbled around a mouthful of ham and cheese.  Bucky just hummed against his back before falling silent, taking a sandwich for himself but otherwise letting Tony be.  Full of food and relatively pain-free for the moment, thanks to Bruce and, apparently, Bucky, Tony found himself drowsing, his head dropping towards his chest.  

He made a grumbling sound of protest when he felt Bucky moving behind him, but the other man just shushed him.  “Jus’ gettin’ you lyin’ down,” he promised, helping Tony get situated and pulling the sheets up over him, apparently deciding the comforter was either too heavy or too warm.  “I’m gonna put the food away and I’ll be righ’ back.”  Tony mumbled something vaguely agreeable, and Bucky left the room as Jarvis dimmed the lights.

He drifted off and on for a while before becoming aware of voices in the main section of the Penthouse, tension stealing through him.  “Bucky?” he asked, realizing the other man wasn’t in the room.  And now there was anger, and fear, and Tony realized that it wasn’t coming from him.  Sitting up, Tony frowned, trying to identify the voices.  Bucky, of course.  And someone else, a voice that was vaguely familiar.  “Jarvis?” Tony murmured quietly.  He received no response, which set off every alarm bell he had.  Had they taken Jarvis offline?

Tony was up and moving before he had a conscious hand in place, a gun in his hand and no idea how it had gotten there or where it had come from.  No, that was a lie; it was one of Bucky’s, he knew that much.

“Come now, _Herr_ Barnes.  There is no need to make this more difficult for yourself or your companions,” Red Skull was saying as Tony approached the living room.  He couldn’t see any soldiers in the room, but Schmidt’s voice was ringing in his ears, sliding like poison through his brain.  He felt sick, like he might just collapse where he was, unable to move with that monster’s voice permeating every crevice of his Penthouse.

“Get out,” Bucky hissed, terrified and trying to hide it.  Tony could feel the Soldier there, just waiting to see if fight or flight won out.  If the Winter Soldier came out, Tony wasn’t sure what would happen.  Red Skull controlled the Soldier; he was _their_ Asset.  But Bucky was a different matter.  Bucky was his.

Tony moved around the corner, the gun already up and pointed right at Schmidt’s blood-red skull.  He would blow the man’s brains out before he had a chance to take Bucky away.  Gleaming black eyes turned to stare at him, and Schmidt’s mouth opened in a rictus of a smile.  “Ah, _Herr_ Stark, the man of the hour,” he hissed.  “My golden goose.”  Tony shuddered, his knees locking before him, past and present and future crashing into each other, spinning wildly out in his mind.

The first word was spoken, and Tony froze, unable to do anything but scream in his mind, to plead silently for the words to stop.  They came swiftly and without hesitation; it seemed that Red Skull had learned his lesson the first time.  “ _Zhelaniye. Rzhavvy. Semnadtsat. Rassvet._ _Pech’_. _Devyat’._ _Dobrokachestvennaya. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu_. _Odin. Gruzovoy vagon.”_ Tony’s panic joined with Bucky’s, even as the Soldier pushed forward, summoned by the will of his Masters.

Locked inside his own head, Tony screamed.

“Tony!  Tony!  Come on, wake up.  Tony, please! _Pozhaluysta, prosnis'!_ ” The voice was growing increasingly desperate, fighting with the voices in his head, and Tony bolted upright, his heart hammering beneath his ribs, his hands scrabbling for the reactor, his breath ragged in his ears and harsh in his throat as he stared blankly out into the darkness of the room.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he rasped out, before lurching for the side of the bed to throw up the dinner he’d eaten less than an hour before.  He probably would’ve tossed himself right off and onto the floor if strong arms hadn’t gripped his hips, keeping him mostly upright.  When he was done, he sat back, shaky and weak.  His side throbbed in time with his heart beat, a staccato rhythm that pounded under his ribs.  “Oh, god,” he muttered.  “Shit.”  He stared blankly at the crumpled up comforter gripped tight in one fist, not wanting to close his eyes and see a red skull staring back at him.  

Gradually, he became aware of the soothing murmur from Jarvis (Jarvis was okay, he was fine, thank god) and of the hand rubbing gentle circles around his back, occasionally stopping to stroke up and down his spine.  “Bucky,” he said with a sigh, feeling a knot of tension release in his chest.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Bucky murmured, then fell silent again, letting Tony gathered his scattered thoughts.  He didn’t ask Tony what was wrong, or if he wanted to talk about it; didn’t try to coddle Tony or make him go back to sleep.  He just waited there, touching Tony with one hand, an anchor that Tony could pull away from if he wanted to.  He didn’t want to.

When he felt he could stand without collapsing, he slipped off the end of the bed.  “Jarvis, get KLEEN-R in here to clean this up, would you?” he asked.  “I’m going to the lab.”  There was no way in hell he’d be able to go back to sleep now.  He paused at the doorway as Jarvis acknowledged his request, reluctant to leave Bucky behind after the other man had featured so predominantly in Tony’s nightmare.  “Wanna come?” he offered, trying to sound casual.  He was sure he’d probably missed by a mile.

Bucky was already up and halfway across the room before he’d finished asking, so he guessed that answered that.  Maybe Bucky would be able to help him do something he hadn’t been able to do himself up til now.  It was worth a try, and with his nightmare for fuel, Tony might even be able to let it happen.

He waited until they were in the elevator before he asked, “Do you have any lingering commands that would countermand a request from me?” he asked, trying to be tactful.

Bucky considered him, his eyes narrowing as he thought.  At least he was taking the question seriously, Tony supposed.  “Tell me what your request is,” Bucky said after a moment.  “I don’t think I have anything in my head that would stop me, but if you’re gonna ask me t’ do somethin’ stupid, like shoot you, then I migh’ have issues with it.”

Tony shook his head.  “I really hope not,” he said sincerely.  Then he paused, not sure how to phrase what he wanted.  No, more like _needed_.  “Do you remember my orders?” he asked, not sure how much of Bucky was there when the Winter Soldier programming took over.

Bucky eyed him.  “Somethin’ about weapons?” he asked.

Tony nodded, glad he wouldn’t have to try and explain.  “Yeah, well, when I first got back, I...made some blueprints,” he admitted.  “Nothing complete,” he hurried to add, “nothing that would actually work as it’s currently designed, but all the pieces are there, buried as deep as I could bury them.  But I can’t...I can’t destroy them.”

Bucky was already nodding.  “Yeah, I c’n see that,” he said.  “I was ne’er able to resis’ when they ordered me into the Chair, either, even knowin’ what was comin’.”  Tony nodded; it was exactly like that.  Even knowing what Hydra would do with those weapons, and hating it, he hadn’t been able to buck the commands, not entirely.  He’d done what he could, and he was sure distance and the Soulbond had helped with that, but the fact remained that the weapon blueprints were still there, still accessible.

“If I can get you access,” he started, then stopped, suddenly not sure he wanted to ask.  A part of him was reluctant to give Bucky access, but he firmly reminded himself that not only was Bucky his Soulmate, albeit by coercion rather than natural Bond, he was also formerly an Asset of Hydra.  Surely he would do what was best, right?  He shuddered, then tried again.  “If I give you access to the blueprints, could you - ?” Again he couldn’t finish, and he growled in frustration, one hand coming up to grip his hair, as if he could yank the words out of his head.

A metal hand covered his, stopping him, and Tony looked up into grey eyes that were filled with determination and a promise.  “Yes, Zhelezoska.  I will do what needs to be done, to keep us both safe,” he promised solemnly.  And just like that, Tony relaxed.  Of course the Winter Soldier would do what had to be done.  He was Tony’s Soulmate, but he was also _more_.  Partner and nursemaid and protector and source of comfort.  The possibilities were endless, and Tony let them spin out in his mind’s eye as he accessed the deepest levels of his secure servers, pulling up muddled, disjointed blueprints that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, but that he could see so clearly, the lure of the technology a bright spot in his mind, calling to him.  But Bucky called, too, talking to him with soft reassurances that everything would be okay, that they were safe, that he’d keep them safe, that Tony would always be Iron Man, and that he’d always be with him.

And Tony let Bucky destroy the blueprints.  And when it was done, he let Bucky hold him while he cried, tears of sorrow and of relief.

Finally, it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pozhaluysta, prosnis'! - Please wake up! (I think....Google Translate can't always be trusted)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square A3: Free Space
> 
> (And my first Bingo!)

Tony blinked, setting the soldering iron down on the worktable as he eyed his progress.  He supposed it was good enough for now. Setting down the prototype as well, Tony stretched, grimacing as his spine straightened out and his injuries pulled.  “J, save that file, for me, would you? Let’s put it under….Project FIM,” he decided, quirking a grin.

 

“What’s that stand for?”  Tony jumped at the question, swiveling around and staring in surprise at the recently awoken soldier staring back at him.  Bucky’s hair was completely flat on one side, and sticking up in every direction on the other. He had a crease across one cheek, but his eyes were bright and alert.  Tony had forgotten that the other man was here. Had been, in fact, since Tony had come down here after a nightmare that he hoped to never ever revisit, some - he glanced at the clock - nine hours ago.

 

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered.  “Didn’t mean to startle you.  You jus’ seemed so focused on what you were doin’ that I didn’t wan’ to interrupt.  And this couch is surprisingly comfortable.”

 

Tony recovered, nodding.  “Yeah, well, I spend more time down here than pretty much anywhere else,” he admitted.  “The couch was Rhodey’s idea, actually.” Mostly because the other man had grown tired of coming down to the lab only to find Tony asleep and slumped over a workbench or curled up on the hard floor.

 

“Smart man,” Bucky observed.

 

Tony grinned.  “I’ll tell him you said so,” he promised.

 

Bucky rolled easily to his feet, his eyes still trained on Tony, who ignored the fluttery feeling he got at being the center of such an intense gaze.  He was getting pretty good at pushing things down. The Soulbond was giving him a lot of practice. Bucky was still better, though; it was really hard to feel anything past the Soldier when Bucky retreated behind the programming.  “You look like you need some sleep,” Bucky observed.

 

Tony gave him a quick grin.  “Nah,” he denied. “No rest for the wicked and all that.”  Bucky was standing in front of him now, and Tony craned his neck so he could peer up at him.  “Hi, there,” he said.

 

“Hey, yourself,” Bucky answered, and it was all Bucky right now, warm and alert and happy.  “Feelin’ better?” he asked.

 

Tony smiled at that.  “You know I am,” he told the other man, feeling the ebb and flow of contentment passing across the Soulbond.  “It was just a nightmare, no biggie.” Sure, it had been terrifying and  _ so real _ , but the fact remained that it had only been a dream, something conjured up by a restless, overactive imagination in a brain that knew, logically, that Red Skull was still out there, somewhere.

 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, stepping forward when Tony put his hands on Bucky’s hips and urged him forward, between Tony’s spread knees.  “Y’sure ‘bout that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one dreamin’ that Hydra got into th’ Tower.” It was a hesitant admission, as if Bucky wasn’t confident in his assertion.

 

Tony frowned.  “You dreamed it, too?” he asked.

 

Bucky nodded. “I froze, an’ I screamed, but you screamed louder,” he said.  “It helped, snapped me outta it real quick.”

 

Tony scowled.  “Glad my screaming woke you up,” he muttered, his mind tripping over itself as he thought.  “You think it’s the Soulbond screwing with us?” he asked.

 

Bucky shrugged.  “I dunno,” he admitted.  “Could be. You ever heard of Soulmates sharin’ dreams?” he asked. Tony shook his head.  “Yeah, me, neither,” Bucky said. “But that could jus’ be because they don’t think it’s important ‘nough to write about.  Or it could be that those Hydra assholes did somethin’ to us that we don’t know about yet. Feelin’ any urges to be evil?” he asked sardonically, surprising a bark of harsh laughter from Tony’s throat.

 

“No, no particular urges,” Tony said, pressing his cheek into Bucky’s hand when it rose to cup his face.  “Unless you count my sudden craving for red meat and cheese.” He knew it was only like seven in the morning - Steve probably hadn’t even gotten back from his run yet - but he could really go for a couple of cheeseburgers just then.  He pulled out his phone; the advantage to having money and living in New York was that you could get just about anything you wanted whenever you wanted it.

 

Bucky sighed. “There’s gotta be someone we c’n ask,” he said.  “Somebody who knows mor’n we do about Soulbonds and that kinda thing, anyways.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes as he considered that for a long, long moment.  He sighed. “Fine,” he grouched. “But if he says _one_ _word_ about karma or divine intervention or some such nonsense, I’m going to tie that stupid handsy cloak of his into knots and strangle him with it.”  Bucky just looked at him blankly, and Tony sighed. “Long story, pal. Let’s just say that Strange has a semi-sentient cloak that doesn’t understand personal space.”  He might still hold a teeny, tiny grudge against that stupid garment.

 

Bucky shrugged.  “But you think he’ll be able to help?” he asked.

 

Tony sighed.  “I don’t know anymore,” he admitted.  “But so far, science hasn’t done us any good.  And honestly? I’m starting to suspect that whatever those Hydra assholes used on us, it wasn’t entirely empirical.”

 

“Ya think?” Bucky asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.  Tony grinned sharply.

 

“You’re right,” he agreed.  “I don’t know what I was thinking.  Obviously, this is not an organization that actually cares about things like logic.”  Seriously, anybody who thought it was a great idea to listen to a guy with a blood-red skull wasn’t exactly a stellar example of sanity.

 

Bucky’s answering laughter sent warmth curling through Tony’s chest.  Maybe talking to Doctor Strange wouldn’t be so bad, if Bucky was with him.  Tony pulled out his phone.

 

It was time to make a call.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty much just a segue to the next one.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bucky talk to Doctor Strange, who is, as per usual, Not Helpful. Bucky is worried, Tony accidentally makes it worse. Lucky for both of them, Bucky's awful forgiving. And there's kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square R1: Super Soldier Serum

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”  Stephen Strange held his hands outspread, his cloak fluttering dramatically behind him despite the fact that there was no wind.  Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Whatever they did to you should not have worked. There is no way to force a Soulbond that isn’t meant to be.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes.  “So you’ve said,” he snapped.  “But I’ve done my research. There has never been a Soulbound pair that was so far apart in age!”  He threw one hand out towards Bucky, who was examining several of Strange’s mystical artifacts, seemingly uninterested in the conversation going on behind him.  “This guy is from the Depression! I mean, I might get it if he was  _ Steve’s _ Soulmate.  Or even Howard’s.”   _ God forbid. _  “But mine?  There’s gotta be something that they did!”

 

The Sorcerer Supreme just shrugged.  “And yet, here you both are, alive and in the same time.  It’s not like Soulbonds have been studied all that much. There simply aren’t enough of them at any given time to provide sufficient data.  It has never been determined how Soulmates are decided, or chosen, if that’s what it is.”

 

“Maybe the serum has somethin’ to do with it,” Bucky observed, now standing at Tony’s shoulder and watching their host warily.  Apparently the soldier didn’t like magic anymore than Tony did.

 

Strange nodded.  “It’s possible, of course,” he agreed.  “Very little is known about the serum used on you, Sergeant,” he admitted.  “Even less than is known about the serum used on the Captain.”

 

Tony scowled.  “Yeah, well, lucky for us.  We’ve got enough problems with people trying to make super soldiers without them having an actual working formula they can mass-produce.”  Not that they’d stopped trying, but it took years of research and testing to get anything that even close to the original.

 

“Yes, well, regardless, Sergeant Barnes is likely correct in that the serum had something to do with the Soulbond taking effect,” Strange said.  “Given how little is known about Soulmates in general, it is difficult to say how, exactly, the serum affected the possibility of a Soulbond, other than by virtue of extending Barnes’ life, and therefore the possibilities.  Perhaps he would not have had a Soulmate, or perhaps he would have found someone else.” Stephen Strange spread his hands in the classic ‘who knows?’ gesture, far more amused than the situation warranted.

 

“You know, I’m gettin’ real tired of people blamin’ the serum for ever’thing,” Bucky interrupted with a scowl.  “If you’re not able to help us, then I guess we’ll get goin’.” Tony turned his head to look up at him, but he couldn’t read the expression on Bucky’s face.  The link between them was still warm and calm, though, so he figured Bucky wasn’t angry. But he did have a point. If their host couldn’t give them information, then there was no point in sticking around.

 

“You’ll keep us informed?” he asked.  

 

Stephen smiled benignly.  “Of course,” he agreed. “After all, I do find this whole situation to be rather...fascinating.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I’ll bet,” he sighed.  Bucky was already walking away, his flesh hand wrapped around Tony’s wrist to pull the smaller man out after him.  “See you around, I’m sure,” he added, throwing in a sarcastic little wave. The cloak waved back, and then they were outside and the Sorcerer Supreme’s private domain was hidden from casual view once more.  Did Tony ever mention how much he hated magic?

 

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you didn’t want to leave just because Strange was completely useless,” Tony mused, manfully resisting the urge to say  _ told you so _ .  

 

“No,” Bucky said shortly.  “I left because I recognized that look in the wizard’s eyes.”  Tony snickered internally as he briefly imagined the horrified look on Strange’s face if Bucky had called him a mere wizard.  But Bucky still looked vaguely uneasy, and Tony sobered up quickly.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, his hand stretching out so he could press his fingers to the curve of Bucky’s arm, making the other man stop and face him.  “Strange might be a bit odd, and even more arrogant and self-absorbed than I am, but he’s not a bad guy.”

 

Bucky shook his head.  “Maybe,” he agreed doubtfully, “but he wouldn’t be the first one to wan’ to take a shot at figurin’ out the serum.  Steve was a one-off, since Erskine’s formula was designed to take what’s inside and show it on the outside. That’s why it didn’t work on Red Skull.  He’s bad the whol’ way through.” Tony couldn’t disagree with that, but he kept quiet, waiting for Bucky to continue. “But what Zola used on me...it didn’ change who I am.  It jus’ made me….faster, stronger, quicker to heal. It’s what mos’ people think the super soldier serum  _ shoulda _ been.”

 

Tony frowned.  “That makes an awful sort of sense,” he admitted.  “I’m pretty sure Strange doesn’t have any designs on your blood, but if he was making you uncomfortable, that’s good enough for me.”  Now that he was thinking about it, he could feel the barest hints of unease coming from the other man. He had just thought it was him - he hated magic, it didn’t follow any rules that  _ made sense. _  While there was nothing inherently evil about magic, it still made Tony’s skin crawl.  It seemed like cheating, somehow.

 

Bucky shrugged.  “I think he’s mostly jus’ wonderin’ how the serum affects the bond or whatever,” he said, “but I still don’t want him messin’ around with it.”

 

Tony nodded.  He knew exactly how Bucky felt; he didn’t like anybody messing around with his arc reactor or his armor, either.  Even Rhodey was only allowed to use the War Machine armor that Tony had designed with him in mind. The rest of them were his.  Well, there might be one in there for Bruce somewhere, he admitted silently to himself. And Pepper.

 

“There’s been more than enough of that, I think,” Tony said, and he wasn’t talking just about the serum.  The both of them had been victims of unwanted modifications. Bucky with Zola’s serum and the cybernetic arm and memory wipes.  Tony’s arc reactor. And a Soulbond that connected them whether they wanted it or not. They could go their separate ways, as Bucky had proven when he’d taken off after their rescue from Hydra, but that wasn’t enough to make the Soulbond dissolve.  And Tony didn’t know if Bucky’s serum had helped him, but he knew that he, personally, had only felt worse the longer they were apart. It wasn’t a sickness or anything like that, more like a general sense that he was off-balance, that something was missing, a large, human-shaped something.  A gaping, aching loneliness that he had worried would never end. Tony had never before considered that he’d be so happy getting a phone call from Steve, even if he’d had to go and pay bail for him and Bucky.

 

Happy was waiting for them on the street.  He opened the door, and Tony slid right in, Bucky following after him.  As soon as he was settled, Tony wriggled around so that he was pressed right up against Bucky’s side, the soldier’s right arm wrapped around him, his body radiating heat in the air-conditioned chill of the car.  As they pulled away from the curve, Tony called out, “Scenic route, Happy.”

 

“You got it, boss,” the chauffeur-slash-bodyguard replied cheerfully.  A moment later, the window separating them from the driver slid up with a quiet  _ whir _ .

 

Bucky looked down at Tony’s smug grin.  “What’re you up to?” he asked suspiciously.

 

Tony smirked, twisting around so he wound up in Bucky’s lap, looking down at him.  “You can’t fool me,” he grinned. “You know exactly what I’m up to, and I don’t hear you objecting.”  The bond between them flowed easily, anticipation and affection and lust curling through them both. The Soldier hovered on the edges of Bucky’s consciousness, but he was slowly losing tension as they drove further away from Bleecker Street.  And Tony was pretty sure he could get his Soulmate to relax the rest of the way.

 

The thought had hardly crossed his mind when Bucky lurched under him, his hands shoving at him roughly.  Tony’s hands pinwheeled for a moment before he lost his balance entirely, yelping when his ass hit the floor of the limo, his back hitting the opposite bench.  “Ow!” he muttered, his hand pressing carefully against his ribs as his side protested the jarring. He was still injured, even if he was mostly ignoring it. “What the hell was that for?!”  

 

He glared up at Bucky, but what he saw made him stop and reassess.  Bucky was crouched on the seats, a knife in his flesh hand, his metal one held up as if to ward off a blow.  His eyes were wide and dark, and his breathing was faster than it should be. “Whoa, okay,” Tony said, holding his hands out to his side, doing his damnedest to not freak out and start a feedback loop through the Soulbond.  He’d been practicing this. Bucky was still better at it, at keeping his emotions to himself, but Tony learned quickly. “Can you to tell me what this is about?” Tony asked, careful to keep his tone from sounding accusatory. Obviously, he’d done something wrong, but he had no idea what it might be.

 

It took Bucky, who was more Soldier than civilian right now, several long seconds before he seemed to realize that Tony wasn’t planning to move.  He shuddered, and the knife disappeared back to wherever it had come from, but he didn’t ease up from his crouched position. “Don’t...don’t do that,” he said at last, and Tony nodded.

 

“Yeah, okay, not a problem,” he agreed.  “Mind telling me what I’m not supposed to do?” he asked next, his tone hopeful.  The Soulbond only gave him emotional feedback; he wasn’t a  _ mind reader _ .

 

“Don’t try to manipulate me,” Bucky told him, shifting so that he was pressed against the opposite door, as far away from Tony as he could get.

 

Tony blinked.  “I wasn’t trying to,” he said, then paused, and really thought about it.  He really hadn’t meant to try and make the other man do anything, but he realized that perhaps his desire to get the other man to relax could have been misinterpreted as an attempted manipulation of the bond.  And if he was perfectly honest, he didn’t know for sure that he  _ couldn’t _ push Bucky into feeling or reacting a certain way.  Soulmates were supposed to be equals, but they had already proven that the Winter Soldier’s conditioning could affect both of them, and that Tony’s stubborn refusal to be bullied into making weapons could work for them as much as against them.  He bit his lip. “Okay,” he said at last, “maybe I did. But I honestly wasn’t trying to make you do anything,” he said. “I was actually thinking more along the lines of kissing you, if you didn’t have any objections,” he admitted wryly.

 

“Kiss me,” Bucky repeated blankly.  Then, “Why?”

 

Tony shrugged.  “Because I want to.  Because I think you might want to.  Because I like you. Because I like kissing.  Because we had one date that kind of ended in disaster, and I’m wondering how it might have gone if we hadn’t been interrupted.  Should I keep going?” he asked. Because really, all he’d been thinking was that a nice, long makeout session would probably relax Bucky (or rev him up in a whole different sort of way) and would put Doctor Strange and super soldier serum out of their minds.

 

And now he was very carefully  _ not thinking _ about how Bucky had looked just that morning in the workshop, after a solid’s night rest, surrounded by Tony’s things.  He hadn’t looked  _ soft _ , exactly - the Winter Soldier was never soft - but like he was content.  And that had been the best feeling ever, to have his Soulmate so comfortable in the one space that he considered to be truly his.

 

Bucky’s expression now was still wary, but he didn’t move as Tony picked himself up off the floor and settled on the bench, careful to keep the distance between them.  The Soulbond was locked down as much as it ever was, the chill of the Soldier a near-solid barrier between them. Tony kept his own emotions locked tight, surprised to find that it was harder to do than he remembered.  He’d always been good at keeping his emotions off his face and out of his voice, and he was a master at suppressing the ones he didn’t want to deal with, but with the Soulbond, it was different. There was something almost freeing about not being able to hide behind snark and showmanship, about knowing that even if he wanted to hide, he couldn’t.  Not really, and not forever. So why bother?

 

And Bucky was an attentive Soulmate.  At least, Tony was pretty sure he was, having nobody else to compare it to.  But Bucky seemed to know, instinctively, when Tony needed time alone, or when he was in the mood for company.  He knew when Tony was hurt and made sure he got his injuries taken care of, but he also understood that Tony’s need to work was more pressing than his need to tend to a couple of cuts and bruises.  Hell, he’d been more than willing to follow Tony down to his lab and let Tony work even though he still had what amounted to four healing bullet wounds in his side.

 

Speaking of injuries, now that Tony had remembered they were there, they started hurting with a dull, throbbing sort of pain.  It was like his whole right side was lit up with fire, and he cursed, closing his eyes and shifting to ease the pressure on his side a bit.  A moment later, the pain dulled back down to something barely noticeable, and he opened his eyes, meeting Bucky’s stare. “Are you...controlling my pain?” he asked, then winced at his own poor choice of words.

 

Bucky frowned, but he seemed more thoughtful than angry or scared now, so Tony didn’t push.  “I….think so?” he said. “The Asset only cares that it is functioning,” he said, his words slow, like he was having to think about them.  “Pain is a weakness. It is unimportant. Pain is ignored unless damage is extensive enough to require repairs.” Tony winced; he didn’t want to look too closely at what ‘repairs’ might mean, or how bad the damage would have to be for the Winter Soldier to require them.  Being shot multiple times apparently didn’t meet the criteria, probably because nothing vital was hit, and the Soldier’s quick healing would take care of the problem without interference. But Tony’s body didn’t work like that. At least, he was pretty sure it didn’t.

 

Tony pouted.  “So I guess that means kissing is out?” he wondered out loud.

 

The Soldier frowned at his levity, but it was Bucky who answered.  “I never said that,” he disagreed. Tony grinned, then carefully maneuvered so that he was seated next to Bucky, searching his expression for hesitation or reluctance, searching for remnants of the Soldier.  But it was Bucky who was watching him with concern, who was touching lightly against his side, over the bandages. It was Bucky who urged Tony back into his lap, so that he was facing the other man head-on, rather than twisted to the side.  And it was  _ definitely _ Bucky who cupped his face between his hands and pulled him down into a kiss.

 

Tony sighed happily into the sensation, not pushing for more than the gentle press of lips, the occasionally flicker of a tongue or the gentle scrape of teeth.  He set his hands on Bucky’s shoulders for balance, not pressing or grabbing, but just letting them rest there while they explored this new thing between them. Bucky’s metal hand rested on the seat next to them, his right hand on Tony’s left hip, holding on.

 

It was Bucky that pulled back first, and Tony sighed, dropping his head to the other man’s shoulder.  “It’s so not fair that you’re already healed,” Tony mumbled, his left hand tightening on Bucky’s shoulder, where claws had torn through the flesh.  “Not that I want you hurt, but seriously, not having super healing is really inconvenient.”

 

Bucky chuckled, the vibrations pleasant where they were pressed together.  His body was loose and easy, if interested, but Tony didn’t push for more. He’d enjoyed kissing Bucky, and he was pretty sure Bucky had enjoyed it, too, but he didn’t know if the soldier was ready for anything else.  Besides, there was still the fact that while Happy was very discrete, they’d have to get out of the car eventually.

 

“Trus’ me,” Bucky murmured, “the serum?  Not all it’s cracked up to be. You ever try ‘n crack an egg with super strength?”

 

Tony stared at Bucky incredulously, and the soldier grinned.  “It don’t work like they show in the movies,” he pointed out. “When I stopped a car, I punched right through th’ engine.”

 

Tony slowly lost the battle against the amusement creeping through their bond as Bucky continued to list the downfalls of the super soldier serum, everything from the inability to sleep in to the the fact that none of the good drugs worked on them to superior hearing that allowed them to hear way more than any normal person should have to hear about their neighbors' love lives.

 

Tony’s laughter lasted the rest of the way back to the Tower.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony celebrates being injury-free by working the Cadillac. Bucky helps. Until he doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For WinterIron Bingo Square I4: Working on the car together

Tony had finally gotten the all-clear from both Bruce and Bucky, and he was celebrating by burying himself elbow-deep in the engine of an old Cadillac.  Bucky was nearby, admiring the other cars and occasionally drifting by to hand Tony a tool or hold something in place while Tony attached it.

 

Bucky had been remarkably cool about Tony working in the lab while he waited for his side to heal, dropping by occasionally to bring him food or shuffle him off to bed despite Tony’s grumbling that he needed coffee, not sleep.  When Tony gave in and let Bucky drag him upstairs to get some shut-eye, they spent most of the night curled up together, Bucky warm and solid against Tony’s back, careful not to press on his injured side.

 

They used the downtime to work on exploring the reaches of the Soulbond, on discovering just how much they could influence each other.  It had taken a lot of verbal negotiations, and some careful monitoring of the emotions flowing between them, and one memorable occasion, Sam and Steve to play chaperone and mediator.

 

What they’d discovered was that while they could tell when the other one wanted them to calm down or be more wary, they could sense that desire, but they couldn’t actually  _ make _ the other one feel those things if they didn’t want to.  Bucky had proven it by getting into a heated argument with Steve that had nearly led to a brawl in the middle of the kitchen, and Tony had blithely continued with a semi-dangerous experiment that had ended up with a minor explosion.  Nobody had gotten hurt, and Bucky had been more exasperated than angry, so they had chalked it up as an overall success.

 

Doctor Strange had contacted them.  Apparently, one his fellow mages or whatever they were called when they weren’t the ones in charge had discovered an ancient grimoire dedicated entirely to Soulmates and Soulbonds.  And the main takeaway? Soulbonds couldn’t be forced. Not like Hydra thought they’d done. Soulmates were meant for each other, and while a Soulbond might never take effect, might never pull two people together, it couldn’t be made artificially.  Which meant that, against all odds, Bucky and Tony were Soulmates long before Hydra had kidnapped Tony and bound him to the Winter Soldier.

 

Steve had seemed pleased by that, for some reason.  Probably because it more or less meant that Bucky was going to stay with the Avengers whether he wanted to or not.  Because as long as Tony was Iron Man, Bucky would be nearby. So Steve got his team, his purpose, and his best friend all in one neat package.

 

SHIELD did, indeed, have a list of Soulmates.  Some of them had surprised Tony - who would have guessed that Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter were Soulmates?  Tony only knew of them by reputation - Bobbi was rumored to be as good as Natasha at undercover work, and Lance had apparently worked under Phil Coulson for a while.  The two of them apparently also enjoyed a good argument, if the stories were to be believed. Tony had bribed them with the offer of alcohol and cool tech, but he was pretty sure that it had been Captain America’s earnest plea that had made them agree to meet with him and Bucky to answer what questions they could.  The meeting had been both informative and entertaining.

 

“Hand me the three-eighths, would you?” he murmured, the correct socket in his hand almost before he’d finished asking.  “Thanks. Mind holding this for me?” A metal hand slid in between his own, pausing briefly to rub at a spot of grease on his cheek before gripping the hose and holding it out of the way so Tony could get underneath it, muttering to himself.

 

“You have no idea what you’re doin’, do you?” Bucky murmured in his ear, making Tony pause for just the barest moment before he continued twisting at the bolt.

 

“Of course I know what I’m doing,” he grunted.  “I’m making it better, thank you very much.” Not fixing it, because that would be too easy.  No, Tony was a futurist, he was always looking for the next best thing. Heck, he was usually  _ making _ them.

 

Bucky made an appraising sound, shifting his hold to give Tony more room to work.  His free hand slid over Tony’s back and hip, teasing and distracting. “Will it be able to fly?” he asked.

 

“Fly?” Tony scoffed.  “That is so 2013, Barnes.”  He still couldn’t believe that Coulson had crashed Lola; Tony had worked hard on that one, dammit!

 

“You made one?!” Bucky asked, surprised.  Tony paused, then straightened up, the socket wrench held loosely in one hand as he propped his hip on the car and raised an eyebrow.  

 

“I did,” he said.  “Why do you sound surprised? Should I be insulted? I feel like I should be insulted.”

 

Bucky was grinning now, boyish in his amazement.  “I saw on, once,” he said. “Well, it didn’t really work.  It sort of hovered for a few seconds, then fell, but it was amazing for its time.”

 

Tony was already nodding.  “That’s right. You would’ve seen dad’s hover car at the World Expo Fair.  Yeah, that was just the prototype. Why?” he grinned. “You want one?”

 

“A flyin’ car?” Bucky repeated.  “Naw. I’d much rather have a bike.”  He gave Tony a saucy wink, and the genius didn’t bother to resist the urge to grab him by the front of his shirt and haul him in for a rough, messy kiss.  Bucky tugged him away from the car just long enough to shut the hood, and then crowded back against him, bending Tony’s back into an enticing curve over the cool metal, one hand on either side of Tony’s head as he devoured him.  Bucky liked kissing, and Tony was more than happy to indulge him. They hadn’t gone much past kissing and a bit of heavy petting, but that was fine by Tony. It wasn’t like just tumbling into bed had ever worked for him before, with guys or girls.  He and Pepper had danced around each other for  _ years _ before they’d even kissed, and that had been his longest lasting relationship ever.  Well, romantic relationship, at least. Rhodey and Pepper had been his friends for years, and still were, despite the insanity that was his life.

 

“So,” Bucky drawled when he pulled back, just enough to let Tony breathe, “what d’ya say?”

 

“Hmm?” Tony asked, loose-limbed and blissed out, reaching out for Bucky to entice back into more kisses.  Bucky resisted, and Tony pouted, blinking the haze away and bringing his brain back online. “‘Bout what?” he mumbled.

 

“Flying bike,” Bucky reminded him helpfully.

 

Tony nodded impatiently.  “Yeah, yeah, flying bike. Later.  Kissing now,” he demanded.

 

Bucky laughed and gave in, bending down to give Tony another one of those soul-searing, drugging kisses, and Tony slipped happily back under the wash of contentment and undirected lust.  A moment later, there was a loud crunching his noise and his back dropped.

 

Together, the two men stared wide-eyed at the hood of the car, which Bucky’s metal hand had just punched through.  “Umm….,” Bucky started, his face heating up with embarrassment as he pulled his hand out of the newly damaged engine.

 

Tony giggled helplessly, burying his amusement against Bucky’s shoulder.  “Eh, it needed a new paint job anyhow,” he managed to strangle out.

 

Hopefully, Bucky was as good at fixing cars as he was at breaking them.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's been telling stories. Tony wants in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For WinterIron Bingo Square B3: Storytelling

Tony wandered into the living room, following the tug of his Soulmate’s combined amusement and disbelief.  He heard the ruckus before he saw it, and walked in to find two super-soldiers  _ wrestling in his living room _ .  He paused, blinked, then stared some more while Steve and Bucky rolled around on the floor, each trying to pin the other without much luck, muffled laughter and curses coming from both of them.  

 

At last, he sighed.  “Jarvis?” he asked.

 

_ “Yes, sir?” _ the AI inquired politely, sounding amused.  

 

Tony tilted his head as he considered the two men behaving like a couple of children.  “Am I dreaming?” he asked at last.

 

_ “Biometrics would seem to indicate that you are, in fact, awake, sir,” _ the AI replied, definitely amused.

 

Tony nodded.  “That’s what I was afraid of,” he muttered.  “I need more coffee.” He turned around to do just that, but stopped when Bucky called out to him.

 

“Did you really destroy a  _ Shelby Cobra _ by falling on it?” he asked, disbelief and glee warring across his expression.  That look alone was enough to make Tony stop, his breath catching for just a moment.  Bucky smiled sometimes, and his eyes were affectionate more often than not when he looked at Tony, but pure joy?  That was something Tony hadn’t heard in a while, not since Bucky realized that he had a chance at a mostly-normal life, a life free from Hydra and Red Skull and Zola’s damn experiments.  It was that feeling that made Tony continue moving forward with his own plans, keeping the others in the dark. 

 

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the blonde grinning next to Bucky, his eyes bright and face flushed.  “Are we telling stories now?” he demanded, pointing imperiously at Steve. “And where did you even hear about that?”

 

Steve gave him a tolerantly amused look.  “Tony, I spent months in SHIELD barracks. I know Natasha.  How do you think I heard about it?”

 

Tony scowled.  “Yeah, but she wasn’t here when that happened,” he retorted, ignoring Bucky’s continued merriment.  “Which means that Pepper probably told her after Jarvis tattled on me.” Of course, Jarvis had only tattled because it was part of Tony’s agreement with Pepper that if Tony did something recklessly stupid that might get him killed without taking proper precautions, Jarvis was allowed to inform her.  And taking the Iron Man armor for a test flight to see how high it would go without accounting for a potential icing problem had probably qualified.

 

He blinked, his mind processing a little slower than normal, then frowned.  “Wait. What could have possibly led to you telling Buckster about that?” he wondered.

 

Bucky snorted, giving Tony a small smile at the nickname, though Tony could feel his pleasure across the Soulbond.  Of all of them, Bucky was quite possibly the only person who never got annoyed with Tony’s penchant for nicknames, accepting them as his due.  “We were tellin’ stories ‘bout the shit we got up to when we were kids,” he admitted. “I don’t ‘member all of it, of course, but there was this one time when we - “ he was cut off by a hand over his mouth, though he slipped it easily enough, his eyes bright.  That, combined with the flushed face and the tousled hair, was a really good look on him, and Tony leaned his elbows on the top of the couch, finding himself content to stay and listen to his Soulmate talk.

 

“Anyhow, this was this time when the two of us went racin’, and then crashed the car through a fence and a barn,” Bucky told him, and Tony’s eyes widened in disbelief.  

 

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand and stopping the story.  “Who was driving?”

 

Bucky’s bark of laughter and Steve’s chagrined expression answered that without them saying a word.  “Steve,” Bucky said. “But that’s not the important bit.”

 

Tony was leaning forward eagerly now.  “Oh, no, no,” he insisted, “I think that is the point.  I mean, was he even tall enough to see over the steering wheel?  And who’d you steal the car from?” Because as depressing as the thought was, there was no way that either of them would have been able to afford a car on their own, not during the Depression.

 

“It’s really not important,” Steve said, which just made Tony even more intrigued.

 

“You know I will find out eventually,” he pointed out.  “I mean, juvie records from the forties?  _ Please _ .”  Actually, he probably wouldn’t do it, because Jarvis would disapprove and not be the least bit helpful, but they didn’t need to know that.

 

Bucky’s grin widened.  “Th’ police chief,” he said proudly.  “Took his car while he was harrasin’ some other punks and took it for a joyride.  Never seen my ma so mad in her life!” His eyes were twinkling now, and Tony just knew there was more to the story than that.  Bucky didn’t disappoint. “She yelled at him somethin’ fierce for allowin’ a coupla kids to steal one o’ their cars, instead of lockin’ it up like he should’ve done.”

 

Tony grinned.  “Did your mom keep you from being arrested by guilt-tripping the chief of police?” he asked, utterly delighted.  “Oh, man, why did this kind of thing never make it to the history books?”

 

Steve gave him a wry look.  “Because the history books only cared about Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, not Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, a couple of troublemakers from Brooklyn.”

 

Tony snorted.  “You’re still a couple of troublemakers from Brooklyn,” he pointed out.  The two men grinned at him, not bothering to deny it. Tony took a mental inventory of what projects he had left to work on, then decided that everything could wait for at least an hour or two.  He pointed at the two soldiers. “You. Stay here. I will be right back, with coffee, and we will continue this.”

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow.  “That don’t seem fair,” he murmured, making Tony pause again on his way to the kitchen for coffee.  “If we gotta tell stories, you should, too.”

 

Tony considered that, then nodded.  “All right,” he agreed. “A true story for a true story.  But if I say ‘no’, then you drop it. Deal?”

 

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, then turned back to Tony and nodded.  Tony could fear mingled eagerness and worry coming across the Soulbond, and realized that Bucky was worried that story time would drag up bad memories for Tony, so he smiled at the other man.  “Some of my stories involve other people who have threatened me with castration or evisceration if I ever tell them to anybody.” Though, really, Tony didn’t know why Rhodey thought for even a second that Tony was worried about that.  They’d been friends for long enough that Rhodey would probably just sigh at Tony if he found out.

 

Bucky winced, and Tony chuckled, making his way into the kitchen where the coffee was ready and waiting for him to pour into a mug.  With the life-giving liquid in his hands, Tony returned to the living room, noting that Steve had moved onto a chair, though Bucky had chosen to remain sprawled on the floor.  Settling into a chair of his own, Tony grinned, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

 

“All right, boys,” he said.  “Let’s get back the storytelling, shall we?”

 

And if one hour turned to two, and two to three, well, who was counting? 

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a battle against a bunch of B-rated horror movie villains brings up some bad memories for Bucky, and Tony finally gets to apologize. Sort of. This chapter was mostly written for fun, not a whole lot of Soulbond stuff happening, except that Tony can feel his partner's distress and gets him out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo Square K5: Experience  
> For WinterIron Bingo Square O3: Zombie

“Who decided you were in charge?” Tony grumbled, sidling along the wall before peering around the corner, hoping nobody was looking his way.  Outside, pedestrians were running away from the source, which was good.  It was a good plan.  A plan that Tony should be following, but wasn’t, because his idiot of a Soulmate had decided that going _towards_ the disturbance was a better plan.  And here Tony thought it had been _Steve_ that had gotten the two men into trouble as boys.

 

“I did,” Bucky grunted, dodging a car as it flew through the air before slamming into the sidewalk and rolling until it shored up against the front of a coffee shop.  Tony mourned the loss.  “Experience over beauty,” he teased, and Tony’s mouth twitched despite his determination to remain serious.  With a sigh, he slipped forward, using the cars lining the road as cover.  He was sorely tempted to get into the Iron Man suit, but until they had more information, the only thing that would serve to do would be to make the people currently running away stop to take pictures.  He didn’t need that kind of nonsense, so while the smart people ran, the two of them were moving _closer_.

 

“Hah.  What experience?” he sniped back, then switched channels to acknowledge Steve’s orders that they find a safe spot and wait for backup.  Not that he was going to listen, but it would make Steve feel better if he at least thought they might.  Tony didn’t understand how the man managed to remain so willfully ignorant.  It was a talent of his, he supposed.

 

“The killing kind,” Bucky retorted, having acknowledged Steve’s orders as well - and then blithely ignored them.  He glanced back at Tony for a brief moment before spinning around and ducking under what appeared to be a robotic fire-breathing duck with a fervent curse.  “You should probably put the armor on,” he suggested.  Tony couldn’t agree more, and after a quick visual to confirm that the streets were mostly cleared of civilians, he dropped the case he’d been carrying and stepped into it, letting the armor form around him.

 

The HUD came up, along with Jarvis’ wry greeting.   _“Am I to presume that we are choosing to ignore Captain Rogers’ orders?”_ he asked.   _“On your left,”_ he added helpfully, and Tony lifted one gauntleted hand, firing a repulsor at the floating jack-o-lantern and sending pumpkin innards everywhere.  He grimaced.

 

“Find the source,” he ordered Jarvis, before throwing himself into the air, quickly catching up to Bucky, who was honest-to-god _wrestling_ with a large wolf-man hybrid.  “A werewolf?” he demanded incredulously as he slammed into the hybrid’s side, ignoring the angry snarls and the way sharp claws dragged across his armored back.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  Then he paused.  “Wait.  Pumpkins and werewolves and vampires,” he noted, sending the werewolf flying into the fanged man heading towards them.  “What the hell was up with the duck?”

 

“It was on fire,” Bucky provided helpfully, leaping into the air and landing on a car’s roof before throwing himself at the werewolf as it extricated itself from the vampire, a long blade stabbing down into the wolf’s throat, cutting off its howl with a gurgling noise.

 

“Wait.  Are you guys fighting scary B-rated movie villains without us?” Clint demanded over the comms, sounding outraged.

 

“It’s October,” Tony pointed out logically.  Nobody bothered to reply, and he grinned, even as he pulled a quick turn around the Quinjet before meeting a giant flying bat in mid-air.

 

“Do great beasts like this come out every October?” Thor asked, utterly delighted as he called down lightning to shoot a witch out of the sky. The glowing green fog that had been forming around her hands veered off to the right, hitting a window and breaking it.  There was an outraged yowl from inside the apartment, and then a giant cat was falling through the wall and to the street below, still growing.  It hit the street and left four Hulk-sized holes in the street, its tail crushing a car and a fire hydrant.  It hissed, the fur along its spine ruffling as its tail puffed up to three times the normal thickness, now the size of a small tree.  The cat’s next scream set off car alarms down the whole block.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tony snapped.  “Would somebody please scruff that damn thing?”

 

“I’ll just get right on that,” Steve replied dryly.  Bucky snorted.

 

There was a loud cry of “Kitty!” before a giant green Hulk dropped out of the Quinjet and landed on the cat’s back, thick arms gripping great handfuls of fur as the cat twisted and hissed in outrage.  “Big kitty play with Hulk!” Hulk crowed.  Nobody contradicted him.

 

“Uh, Tony?” Bucky asked, using their private comm line.  “I don’t suppose you know anything about zombies, do you?”  He was slowly edging backwards, and Tony flew closer to see what he looking at.  The HUD wasn’t showing any heat signatures, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, he told himself.  It wouldn’t have shown the robot duck, either.  There was no reason to panic, he told himself firmly.

 

“I can honestly say that zombies have not come up before,” Tony admitted.

 

He could hear Bucky’s smirk when the soldier replied, “Then I definitely win.”  Tony nearly forgot that he was flying.

 

“Wait, what?” he demanded.  “You’ve fought zombies before? Like, actual undead wandering brain-eating zombies?”

 

Bucky sighed.  “That’s just in the movies,” he complained, a quick spray of bullets completely removing the torso of one zombie and rendering another one’s head into pulp.  Tony took out another three with his repulsors, letting Jarvis plot the trajectory of the shoulder missiles as he got his first look at the horde.  Because really, that’s what it was; a horde.  But it wasn’t the shuffling, moaning animated corpse-like thing that they showed in the movies.  These guys were fast, and they were strong.  Even as Tony watched in disbelief, one of them tore a small tree right out of the ground and swung it at Tony, who jolted higher in the air, then had to do a twist and roll to avoid being eaten by the bat that he’d nearly forgotten about.

 

“Shit!” he swore, his repulsors doing little more than singing the bat’s fur.  The Quinjet took a strafing run at it, managing to clip the thinner, more vulnerable span of the bat’s wings, and it backed off with a loud squeal before turning to face the Quinjet.  “Thanks,” Tony said grimly, taking advantage of the distraction to check on the rest of the team.  Steve and Natasha were fighting off what looked like a couple of mummies, but they were slow and stupid, so Tony wasn’t too worried.  Clint must be the one still in the Quinjet, because Hulk had pinned the giant cat to the street with his arms around its neck while the cat gnawed on his leg, and Thor had apparently found more witches.  The Asgardian prince seemed to have a personal vendetta against witches, if his cries of “Wicked enchantresses, thou shalt not beguile me with your vile magicks!” was any indication.  

 

A tremor ran through him, and his heart rate spiked, prompting Jarvis to display his vitals.  “It’s not me,” he told the AI, but the numbers remained, and he swallowed, swinging around an overturned bus and plowing through half a dozen of the things they were calling zombies.  Bodies scattered in his wake, and he dropped into a defensive pose in front of his Soulmate.  “Are you all right?” he asked tersely, knowing even as he asked that it was a stupid question.  Of course Bucky wasn’t all right, if his fear had broken through his defenses enough to actually affect _Tony’s_ physiological responses.

 

Tony scattered more bodies with his repulsor beams, simultaneously wanting to get up in the air where he’d have a wider range of attack and wanting to stay on the ground and protect his Soulmate, who had backed up against a mini-van, staring wide-eyed at the oncoming hoard.  “Jarvis, any luck on the source?” Tony grit out.

 

 _“Negative, sir,”_ Jarvis replied succinctly.   _“However, it would appear that the targets are not alive.”_

 

Tony frowned, taking a closer look at the attacking horde.  “Bucky, don’t move,” he warned the other man, before darting forward and pressing a gauntlet hard against the chest of one of the zombies before firing.  The zombie dropped, like a puppet with its strings cut, but there was no blood, and the gaping hole in its chest was clean.  Tony grunted.  “What the hell are these guys made of?” he wondered.  They weren’t mechanical, or Tony would be seeing wires and gears and sparking, melted metal.

 

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” Clint spoke up.

 

“Can you get to it?” Steve demanded with a grunt.  It sounded like he was hitting something. Hard.

 

“Yep!” Clint confirmed.  “But I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of giant machine. I can blow it up,” he offered.

 

“Don’t you dare!” Tony snapped.  “Blowing it up might take out half the city.”  Chances were that it wouldn’t, but Tony wasn’t going to take any chances.  “I’ll take care of it, just send me the coordinates.”

 

He was prevented from taking off by a sudden surge of fear and a metal arm gripping his wrist, tight enough to dent the metal plates.  “Can anybody get to my location?” he asked.  Receiving negatives all around, Tony mentally shrugged.  “All right.  Birdbrain, I’m heading your way,” he said.  “Gotta make a drop-off.”  Without so much as a by-your-leave, Tony twisted around and grabbed a startled Winter Soldier, taking them both into the air and away from the zombies before stabilizing himself.  “C’mon,” he told the other man, “you need to help me out here a little, okay?”

 

Grey eyes blinked slowly, still mesmerized by the snarling, snapping mass below them.  Tony had no idea why they were affecting him so badly, but he was determined to figure it out.  Later.  For now, he just needed to get his Soulmate to safety, the need overriding even the urgency of finding and stopping whatever was spilling live-action horror movie creatures into the middle of New York City.

 

The Quinjet obligingly opened its bay doors and Tony flew inside.  “Stay here,” he told Bucky, setting him down as gently as he was able.  “I’ll be back.”

 

Bucky’s belated, “Tony!” was cut off by the sound of Tony’s repulsors as he dropped back into the fray, scattering bodies in his wake, assured that whatever else was going on with Bucky right now, at least he was safe physically.  His HUD lit up with the approximate location of the source of the disturbance, and Tony angled towards it, visually confirming the location of the others and grimacing at what he saw.  They were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.  Hulk was currently pinned under one giant paw while the cat gnawed on his arm.  The green behemoth didn’t seem particularly distressed, though, so Tony ignored the odd sight and made his way to the core.

 

“Ugh. Portals,” he muttered.  “Why does it always have to be portals?”  At least this one didn’t appear to lead into outer space.  In fact, it didn’t really seem as if it _went_ anywhere. It was more like a ring of eerie red smoke that the creatures were appearing out of, from seemingly out of nowhere.  Beyond the ring, all Tony saw was more of New York, as if the portal wasn’t even there.  But the... _things_...were obviously materializing from somewhere.

 

Testing the waters, Tony took aim at the center of the portal and fired a repulsor beam.  He dug a long, straight divot in the pavement beyond the portal.  “Oops,” he muttered, scowling.

 

“Try hittin’ th’ edges.”  Bucky’s quiet voice was wonderful to hear, and Tony smiled.

 

“Feeling better?” he asked, eyeing the unstable edges of the portal and trying to get a lock on it before firing.  The repulsor struck the halo and it wobbled.  The mummy that had partly stepped out of it was suddenly only half a mummy, and Tony hummed.  The portal stabilized, and another mummy wandered into New York, followed by half a dozen bats and a spider that stood three times as tall as Tony, forcing him to take to the air to avoid being grabbed by the spider’s chelicerae and eaten.  “Please don’t start making a web,” he muttered.  One webhead in town was enough; he didn’t need an _actual_ spider getting in on the action.

 

“Yeah, I...sorry,” Bucky muttered.  “I jus’ lost it for a momen’.  Their eyes…” he trailed off, but Tony got it.  At least, he was pretty sure he did.  The zombies hadn’t really been aware of their surroundings, or what they were doing.  They were little more than mindless animals, and Tony could absolutely see why Bucky would take issue with that.  It undoubtedly shook up a bunch of memories and experiences that he’d really rather forget.   _Automaton_.

 

Tony winced. “Uh, yeah, about what I said when, you know, I was captured and you were standing in the corner all creepy like.  Sorry about that.”

 

A snort over the comms.  “Really?” Bucky asked, amusement softening the edges of fear that Tony could still feel through their Bond.  “Now?”

 

Tony shrugged, trying to send back thoughts of safety and concern and protection.  “Is there a better time?” he asked, taking aim at the portal again as a shield came flying past him, taking out the left legs of the spider and sending it toppling to the ground in an ungainly heap.

 

“Spider!” Hulk roared, and Tony got out of the way as half a ton of green muscle pounced on the spider, which took care of that problem, if a bit more messily than Tony might have liked.

 

“Uh, yeah, good job squashing the arachnid,” Tony told Hulk, giving the green giant a thumbs up.  Hulk grinned up at him.

 

“Hulk smash!” he agreed.  There was a yowl further down the street, and Hulk turned.  “Good kitty!” he roared, leaping away and heading back over to the giant cat, who was currently carrying a yellow taxi in its mouth and meowing demandingly around it.  “Kitty play catch with Hulk!”

 

“Iron Man, can you take out the portal?” Steve asked, grabbing his shield out of mid-air and executing a half-turn before flinging it into a mass of zombies.  The large bat from earlier fell to the ground with a crash, Natasha leaping lightly off its back.

 

“I can’t get a wide enough beam to disrupt it,” Tony answered tersely, switching back to the team coms.  “I need Thor.  Anybody seen him?”

 

“I think he just dropped a...mobile home on top of one of the witches,” Clint said.  There was a beat of a pause, and then a collective murmur of _Clint_.  “What?” the archer demanded.  “It worked!”

 

“Yes,” Natasha agreed, her tone deceptively mild.  “Dropping a house on someone generally kills them.”

 

“At least he didn’t try to use soap and water,” Bucky pointed out blandly.

 

“Hah!” Steve crowed.  “Wizard of Oz!  I remember that movie!”  Tony took a moment to process that before realizing that Wizard of Oz actually _had_ come out before the start of World War II.  So Steve and Bucky had probably seen the original.

 

“‘M surprised you remember,” Bucky said, sounding grumpy.  “We had to leave before the end ‘cause you picked a fight with three guys twice your size.”  Tony was not surprised; Steve had apparently always been a troublemaker.  Now he just had the muscles to back it up.

 

“Man of Iron!” Thor said, his arrival scattering a pack of rats.  “I heard you required my assistance!”

 

Tony gave up.  “Yeah, I need you to fry this portal, Point Break,” he said.  

 

As Thor enthusiastically called forward a huge bolt of lightning that shook the ground and destabilized the portal enough that the unibeam destroyed it entirely, Tony switched to his private channel with Bucky.

 

“So...new experience?” he asked as they began cleanup of the remaining monsters.

 

“I had a boss with a red skull for a face,” Bucky reminded him sourly.  

 

He...might have a point.  Red Skull definitely trumped zombies.

 

Happy Fucking Halloween.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For WinterIron Bingo 2018 Square N3: Free Space

Tony stared wide-eyed up at the face swimming in front of him, blurry and unfocused, the hands wrapped around his upper arms the only things keeping him grounded, from falling away into the vastness of space.  He knew, vaguely, what was happening. The incident with the Nightmare Portal had followed him home, warped his dreams, twisted them until he was no longer in New York, no longer on Earth, even. Logically, he was aware that he’d awoken from the nightmare in the middle of a panic attack, but logic wasn’t really relevant right now.  He couldn’t even hear Jarvis through the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

 

“J-J-Jarvis?” he managed to stutter, his lungs squeezed tight, air rasping harsh against his throat.  The person holding him looked upwards, his mouth moving, but Tony couldn’t parse the words. It was all unintelligible, just muffled sound, like he had cotton stuffed in his ears.  “Jarvis!” Tony cried out again, pushing against the hands holding him.

 

The other man backed off immediately, his expression odd as he held out his hands peaceably, and that was worse, somehow, leaving Tony completely untethered to the here-and-now, lost again in the there-and-then, and he found himself clinging instead to fistfuls of the man’s shirt.  “Barnes,” he managed to bite out, knowing that wasn’t quite right, not anymore, but not really remembering why.

 

“Tony,” Barnes replied easily, his tone betraying none of the anxiety that hovered at the edges of his emotions.  “Jarvis says you’re havin’ a panic attack or somethin’. Can you breathe with me?” he asked, his chest rising and falling under Tony’s hands, deep and steady.  Tony swallowed hard, his breath escaping in harsh, uneven exhales. He could hear Jarvis now, the familiar British tone having little effect on his spiraling thoughts.  Instead, he reached out for something stronger than him, stronger than them both.

 

The Winter Soldier rose up at his touch, frost coating the edges of his anxiety, making him tremble.  But the Soldier wasn’t afraid, wasn’t worried about what had happened, or about what had come next. All that mattered was the mission.  Tony’s breath eased out of him in a long exhale as the Soldier’s calm blanketed his terror, muffling it under a thick layer of unfeeling ice.  It didn’t remove it - the Soulbond wasn’t capable of completely overriding emotions - but it gave Tony enough space to breathe again, his breaths gentling to match the rhythm of the chest under his hand.

 

Once he was relatively sure he had a firm grasp of reality, Tony eased away from the Bond, looking up at Bucky, to thank him or kiss him, he wasn’t really sure, but what he saw made him pause.  Dark, blank eyes stared back at him. Bucky hadn’t moved from his position on the floor, but it wasn’t Bucky inside there now. This was the Winter Soldier, Hydra’s Asset, the man who had murdered Tony’s parents.  And Tony had done this to him, had pulled the Winter Soldier so far forward that it had subsumed the part of Bucky that was  _ Bucky _ .

 

“Shit,” Tony breathed.  Grey eyes, the color of a winter stormcloud, looked at him dispassionately.

 

“Stark,” the Soldier said, his tone one of...not indifference, exactly, but almost factual.  “You have need of me?”

 

Tony frowned, then shook his head.  “Yes. No. II...I panicked,” he admitted, frustrated with himself.  “I didn’t mean to...do whatever it was I just did,” he said, realizing even as he said it that despite the research they’d done, they still had no true idea just how the Soulbond worked.  Especially when one of the Soulmates had what amounted to two very different personalities.

 

“You required my assistance,” the Soldier repeated.  “Do you still have need of me?”

 

Tony considered that for a moment.  He could still feel the Soldier’s calm across their Bond, but underneath that was something darker, something that ran deep and strong.  When Tony realized what it was, the breath punched out of his chest, leaving him retching. “Oh, god,” he said. “What did I do?” Bucky was afraid.  Of  _ him _ .

 

“You did what was necessary,” the Soldier told him, and Tony closed his eyes, not wanting to look.  He hadn’t meant to, though. But  _ I’m sorry _ seemed so inadequate.   _ It won’t happen again _ .  But he couldn’t promise that, either, could he?  It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose. Or maybe he had; maybe a part of him knew that the Soldier was there, just waiting for him.  There had always been traces of him, especially during battles where the Winter Soldier’s lack of fear and single-mindedness had been an advantage.  But here, at the Tower, it was supposed to be safe. For everybody.

 

“You think too much,” the Soldier grumbled, though his tone had shifted slightly.  Tony looked up, watching the ice thaw from his eyes, leaving Bucky staring back at him.  Bucky swallowed hard, and the guilt swamped Tony, chasing away the last of his fear under its crushing weight.

 

“No, Tony,” Bucky said, his voice hoarse, as if he’d been screaming.  “Don’t do that. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I coulda resisted.”

 

Tony shook his head.  “You shouldn’t have had to make that kind of decision,” he said.  “You’re you, whoever that is now, and I had no right to try and force you to be anybody else.”

 

Bucky snorted. “What makes you think you forced me to do anythin’?” he asked.  Tony looked up, and Bucky scowled at him, the look not quite Winter Solder scary, but definitely its own kind of intimidating.  “The Soldier is a part of me. It’s not two differen’ personalities or somethin’ silly like that. It’s a part that I keep hidden, and I don’t like bringin’ it out when there’s not killin’ that needs doin’, but it’s not like you forced me to be somethin’ I’m not.  You needed the Soldier, and that’s okay.”

 

“You were afraid,” Tony countered.  “When the Soldier’s conditioning took over, you were afraid.”

 

Bucky shook his head, then paused to consider.  “Okay,” he agreed, “I was. But not ‘cause of the Soldier, ‘xactly.  I was afraid you’d think I was gonna hurt you or somethin’. Or maybe that you wouldn’t like that part of me when it’s not a matter of life or death.”

 

Tony stared, trying to wrap his head around that.  “You do realize that I knew the Soldier before I ever knew Bucky, right?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, as a creepy automaton that just stood there an’ watched while Hydra beat the shit outta you,” Bucky pointed out, and now that Tony was listening, he could hear the guilt and self-loathing that colored the other man’s tone, though very little of it slipped through the Soulbond.

 

Tony chuckled wryly, even though there was nothing really funny about this situation.  “Wow. For all the talking we’ve done, Buckaroo, we haven’t actually talked about any of the important stuff, huh?”  He let his amusement show through, and didn’t try to hide his concern. “I’m not afraid of the Soldier. I was kind of creeped out when you just kept staring at me, sure, but really, can you blame me?  But ever since Hydra fucked up and bound us together as Soulmates, I haven’t been afraid. Of any part of you.”

 

Bucky searched his face even as Tony felt him pressing tentatively along the bond, testing Tony’s statement, his sincerity.  But Tony meant it, so he let Bucky do what he needed to, and when Bucky finally slouched in relief, he smiled. “See? Definitely not afraid,” he said, his tone gentle despite the teasing words.  Something was still worrying Bucky, and he wanted to find out what it was, if only so he could reassure him. He still felt guilty about using the result of Bucky’s years of torture and brainwashing to battle his own anxiety, but that could wait until later, when he was alone and could muffle the Bond’s flow for a bit to let the guilt take over before deciding what to do about it.  Because he couldn’t take it back, that was for damn sure.

 

“You mean that,” Bucky said at last, then sighed.  “Stevie’s gonna laugh so hard when I tell ‘im,” he muttered.

 

“Tell Steve what?” Tony asked suspiciously, making the other man grin.

 

“Tell ‘im that he was right, and that you carry enough guilt on your shoulders to make Atlas cry.”

 

“Rude,” Tony accused him, but he was smiling, too.  The two of them undoubtedly still had a lot to talk about, but that could wait.  Right now, he really just wanted to mainline coffee and get to work. He certainly wasn’t about to go back to sleep, nevermind that he was still shaky from the aftermath of his panic attack, or that it was just past five in the morning.  Sleep was for the weak.

 

“Well,” he said, climbing to his feet somewhat steadily and clapping his hands, “now that we’re both up, I’m going to head to the lab for a bit.  I’ve got a new...well, I’m actually not sure what I’ve got right now,” he admitted cheerfully, “but I’m sure it’s really quite interesting.”

 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, smiling as he climbed to his own feet far more gracefully than Tony had managed.  “You got room for one more down there?”

 

Tony pretended to consider that for a moment.  “I suppose DUM-E could use some maintenance,” he allowed, though if he was completely honest, he’d be glad for the company, if only to reassure himself that Bucky really wasn’t upset.  And maybe to sort prod at the dichotomy that was Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier. Was what Bucky had said correct? That he and the Winter Soldier were one and the same, regardless of Hydra’s ‘programming’ or Bucky’s past?  Could the two be merged to form a whole, to free Bucky to be exactly what he was, a combination of the two, without having to be one or other?

 

So many questions, and all the time in the world to figure it out, Tony supposed as Bucky drew him into a gentle kiss, reassuring him with lips and tongue that he wasn’t upset, wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“Let’s go,” he murmured, his fingers linking with Bucky’s as they left the room, heading for the workshop, Bucky pressing close to him in the elevator to breathe into his ear.

 

_ “Da, davay.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da, davay: Yes, let's


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a battle, Tony get himself into a spot of trouble, and Bucky pulls off an improbable shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For WinterIron Bingo Square I5: Learning a New Skill
> 
>  
> 
> Well, okay, it's more like...adding a new level to a skill that Bucky already has, but we're using a bit of creative interpretation here.

“Goddammit!” Tony swore, twisting around and dodging another beam of blue light from one of Hydra’s Chitauri-based weapons, sending half a dozen missiles back along the beam’s trajectory.  The cut-off yelp of surprise was just as satisfying as ever. “You good there, Soldier?” Tony asked over the comms.

 

“Peachy,” Bucky answered back tersely, followed by a grunt as he slammed his metal fist into a man’s nose, letting the unconscious body drop to the ground before whirling around and breaking another man’s neck, his flesh hand lifting to fire off a handful of rounds into another soldier’s chest.

 

“Glad to hear it,” Tony grinned, using his palm repulsors to take out two more soldiers.  Jarvis threw up alerts and he turned to meet a hail of bullets head on, the lead impacting the armor with a dull thudding noise.  “Really?” he demanded.

 

“Tony, watch your six!” Steve barked, the shield flying through the air and striking the chest of a man who had, moments before, been aiming a rocket launcher at Tony’s exposed back.

 

“Thanks, Cap!” Tony called back cheerfully, though he really hadn’t been terribly concerned.  Jarvis would have notified him in plenty of time to get out of the way.

 

Natasha breezed by, slipping underneath Bucky’s shooting arm and sending an electrostatic jolt into the unprotected neck of an armored Hydra agent.  Three more fell to Clint’s arrows, shot from his station on a nearby roof, Thor nearby in case he needed a quick relocation. Clint had a tendency to jump off of buildings otherwise, and being caught by a Hulk in an unprotected human body was a recipe for broken ribs, at the very least.

 

“You would think that they would’ve given up by now!” Tony said cheerfully as he flew above a cluster of Hydra vehicles, dropping a localized EMP grenade that fried their on-board computers and left them without getaway cars.  He was rather proud of that little gem in his arsenal.

 

A loud roar signaled the return of Hulk, who was holding a car upside down, its wheels still spinning frantically.  A moment later, a man dropped out of the driver’s side to the ground and scrambled away just as Hulk threw the car into the cluster of vehicles, the loud noise followed by a small explosion as the cars caught fire.

 

“Easy there, Hulk!” Steve called, and the green behemoth grumbled, but settled down, glaring instead at the Hydra soldier that was trying to inch away before reaching out and picking him up by an ankle, giving him a quick shake before losing interest and tossing the man away over his shoulder, unconcerned about things that weren’t fun to smash or actively shooting at him.

 

“Okay, seriously, this isn’t even worth my time,” Tony muttered to himself, switching his comm to incoming only.  “It was supposed to be a relaxing night in.” Something was pinging his sensors, though he couldn’t get a solid read on it, and Tony changed directions, figuring he should probably check it out, just in case it turned out to be something.

 

“Iron Man, where are you going?” Steve demanded tersely.

 

“Just around that building,  _ dad _ ,” Tony replied sarcastically.  “It’s nothing for you to worry your little head about.”

 

“Tony - “ Bucky’s voice sounded alarmed, which probably should have made Tony take notice, but he was already circling the building.  As he rounded the far side, he realized three things. One, that was a really, really big gun pointed at him. Two, he really should have expected that Red Skull was behind this.  And three, he had just separated himself from the rest of the Avengers, putting an entire building between him and them.

 

He didn’t even have time to call a warning before Schmidt fired, the glow bright and immediate.  He was drawing back, but it was too late, because contrary to the rumors, Iron Man could  _ not _ fly faster than the speed of light.   _ “Sorry,” _ he thought grimly, hoping that his death wouldn’t take Bucky with him.  The explosion caught him off guard, sending him tumbling through the air before he crashed into another building.

 

He lay there, his limbs all akimbo and his ears ringing as he blinked, stunned.  What the hell had just happened? He couldn’t be positive, of course, but he was pretty sure that shot should have been a direct hit.

 

He twitched inside the armor, but the suit was dead around him, pressing down on him and rendering him immobile.  “Jarvis?” he tried hopefully, the words escaping as a mere whisper. Licking his lips he tried again. “Jarvis? Bucky? Cap?”  Still no answer. “Clint?” he asked, resigned.

 

Realizing that he couldn’t hear the others, either, though he was sure they were still out there, Tony debated trying to reach through the Soulbond, but he was worried that doing so might distract Bucky if the soldier was still fighting.  Instead, he set about moving one of his arms. If he could just get one arm free, he could press the manual releases on the suit.

 

To distract himself from worrying about the others - or thinking about them being worried about  _ him _ \- Tony muttered various curses and threats and potential enhancements to the armor under his breath.

 

He was almost relieved when he felt worry and fear flood down the Soulbond, though it made him flinch back, aggravating several of his bruises.  And his cracked ribs. He might’ve broken a finger, too. Maybe more than one, it was kind of hard to tell.

 

He sent back reassurance and warmth, though he couldn’t mask the overlay of pain.  Relief mixed with worry, and Tony felt something almost like surprise just on the edges of the Soulbond.

 

It was actually Hulk who found him first, his landing shaking the entire floor and jostling Tony further.  “Ow,” Tony whined, grateful when Hulk just peered at him from up close before snorting and dropping down to sit, making the floor tremble again.  “Shellhead stupid,” he scolded grumpily, already starting to shrink down into Bruce. Tony approved; as much as he might like the big guy, Bruce was probably better for this.  Tony wasn’t sure he could move from his precariously propped position, anyhow.

 

“Tony?” Bruce murmured, his voice a bit gravelly as the green faded from his eyes, leaving concerned brown in their wake.  “Are you….did I...the Other Guy?” he started.

 

“Naw,” Tony denied.  “I found Red Skull,” he added pointlessly.  Whether the man had survived the explosion and escaped or not, it was sort of a moot point now.  “Then something blew up.”

 

“Sorry about that, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawled as the Soldier stepped into the building with the low crunch of gravel.  Decked out in black leather, his hair pinned back, he stalked forward, nodding to a weary Bruce before coming to a stop next to Tony and dropping to his knees, grey eyes sliding along Tony’s body, which wasn’t nearly as hot as it normally would’ve been.  “How bad?” he asked.

 

Tony blinked, shrugged, then winced.  “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But since I was expecting to be evaporated, I’m not going to complain.  Too much,” he added after considering that for a moment.

 

Bucky snorted at Tony’s pathetic attempt at levity, his flesh hand reaching out to brush a few stray hairs off his forehead.  “I thought I was gonna lose you,” he said, and now Tony could hear the fear to go with what he was feeling through the Bond. “I was so afraid, and I just...I didn’t know what to do.”

 

Tony offered Bucky a crooked smile, wincing as Bruce came over and started checking over his injuries, pressing lightly on bruises and carefully checking Tony’s fingers.  “Just fractured, I think,” he murmured, and Tony didn’t even try to mask his relief at that. He needed his hands, and while a few knicks and burns were inevitable given his...hobbies...he’d rather not think about what would happen if he ever lost the use of his hands.

 

A flash of lightning, and Thor landed heavily, Clint in tow.  The archer glared at Bucky. “How did you do that?” he demanded.

 

Bucky shrugged.  “Dunno,” he said.  “I jus’...I had’ta make the shot.”

 

Clint snorted.  “I couldn’t have made that shot,” he grouched. “So how the hell did you?”

 

Bucky shrugged again, though he didn’t seem terribly concerned.  Tony considered his Soulmate for a moment, allowing it to distract him from the various aches and pains of his body while Bruce finished bandaging his ribs with gauze from the med kit that Natasha had brought along from the Quinjet.  He couldn’t be absolutely certain, but he was pretty sure Clint was right. Bucky had been on the other side of the building from Tony and Red Skull. Even if he had already been moving when he’d called out for Tony, he would have been too far away and at a bad angle to interrupt the shot.  

 

Tony could have done it, maybe.  He had a head for numbers and angles and calculations that rivaled any sniper’s.  Jarvis was excellent for fine tuning and allowed Tony to focus on the next target, or the location of his teammates.  He turned a bright, slightly manic smile on his Soulmate. “Congratulations, you’ve leveled up!” he informed the Soldier cheerfully.  When Bucky just looked confused, he clarified, “You learned a new skill! Well, improved upon you already had, I suppose, but whatever.  Chicken, egg, yadda yadda. Bet you could do it again. We should test it to be sure.” He shifted carefully, pausing when it made his head spin.

 

“Stupid,” Bucky told him, but his voice was full of affection as he carefully scooped Tony up with Bruce’s permission, cradling the smaller man against his chest.  “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

 

“Then science,” Tony agreed, feeling smug.

 

“Then bed,” Bucky disagreed, the warmth coming through the Bond betraying the sternness of his tone.  “Science later. ‘Sides,” he added, “you wanna do it properly, right?  Find out if you learned somethin’, too?”

 

Tony knew he should argue, but he supposed that he could let it go. Just this once. It was awful nice to be cradled against Bucky like this, like he was something precious and fragile.  Besides, Bucky was right. He was going to want to try all kinds of things, see what other new skills they both might have. And that would be a lot more fun if they did it together.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed at last, sinking into the warmth coming across the Bond.  And trying very hard not to think about the tiny little box sitting down in his workshop, safely out of reach of the bots and just waiting for the right moment.  Bucky wasn’t the only one that had learned a new skill, after all. Even if the Soldier’s new skill set was stupidly hot. Apparently, the ability to calculate improbable angles and make equally impossible shots was all it took to cement Tony’s admiration.

 

Who would’ve thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Pretty sure you can all guess where this is headed, yes? I want to wrap this one up so I can maybe get in a few one-shots before Bingo ends. Thanks for hanging in there with me!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tony Stark Bingo 2018 Square R3: Marriage

Tony frowned at his reflection, reaching up to undo his tie again with shaking fingers.  Slender hands stopped him, and Tony turned his frown to Pepper, who just looked at him with a combination of fondness and exasperation.  “It’s fine, Tony. Stop messing with it,” she told him, smoothing the tie against Tony’s chest, pausing for just a moment as her hand settled on the arc reactor.  Tony’s hand reached up to capture hers, holding it there, and she smiled up at him, her eyes just the slightest bit glossy.

 

“A few tears for your old boss?” he teased lightly.

 

Pepper gave him a small smile.  “Tears of joy,” she countered. “Now somebody else can be your plus one.”

 

Tony laughed, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it before releasing her.  “You’re fooling yourself if you really believe that,” he told her, grinning widely. “He hates social events even more than I do.  But that was a good try.” He wished he had the words to explain how much her being here meant to him. And not just her.

 

“Come on, man! Get a move on before you’re late for your own wedding!”  Rhodey stuck his head in the door, grinning widely at the genius. Tony casually flipped him off, and he just laughed.  “Looking good there, Tones,” Rhodey reassured him, stepping into the room.

 

Tony smirked.  “I always look good,” he replied haughtily.

 

“Uh huh,” Rhodey replied, skepticism in his voice.  “You say that like I’ve never seen you after a four-day engineering binge.”  Which, Tony admitted, was a valid point. When he got really involved in a project, he’d live on coffee and short power naps here and there, often forgoing other things like showers and shaving and proper meals until he’d worked out whatever it was that had been causing him problems.  Rhodey had dragged him out of the lab or workshop and bodily shoved him into a shower on more than one occasion. Now, that duty would fall to Bucky, though Tony knew that the both of them would still come visit whenever they were able. They’d stuck by him for this long; what was another few decades?

 

He took another critical look at himself in the full-length mirror, twisting his body to make sure that the pants really _were_ as snug as they felt, the suit tailored to flatter and accentuate _all_ of his assets.  The white suit with its matching vest and red tie were quite flattering, and Tony wondered if that made him the bride here.  Bucky’s suit would be the exact opposite: black suit and vest, gold tie. Tony was half hard just thinking about it.

 

“You’re drooling again,” Rhodey drawled, and Tony flipped him off before bringing a hand up to his mouth just to check that he was not, in fact, actually drooling.  Rhodey laughed, gallantly offering his arm to Pepper, who graciously accepted with a smile before they both turned expectant gazes onto Tony, who sighed, smoothed over his tie once more, and allowed them to herd him out the door.  They were right after all; he couldn’t be late to his own wedding, now could he? That would be a rather poor start to the rest of his life with his Soulmate, after all.

 

Just thinking about spending the rest of his life with Bucky was enough to get his heartrate up, nerves fluttering in his stomach, tangling with the love and pride and sheer amazement that he would actually get to have a Happily Ever After.  Whatever Hydra’s role might have been in their meeting, what the two of them had made with each other was all theirs. Tony vindictively hoped Schmidt would see the news article on the marriage of Tony Edward Stark and James Buchanan Barnes and curse the day he’d ever thought to bind them together into Hydra’s service.

 

He felt a gentle surge of warmth, amusement, and concern come through the Bond, and Tony sent back affection and pleasure, enjoying the give-and-take that was a Soulbond.

 

“It is good to see that your Soulbond remains stable,” a dryly amused voice spoke up, and Tony grinned sharply at Stephen Strange.

 

“Yeah, well, mistakes happen,” he joked.  Because seriously, while Hydra was slightly less inept than, say, Justin Hammer, it was rare that their grandiose schemes ever actually worked like they were supposed to.

 

Strange gave Tony a serene smile.  “The man known as Red Skull is no longer on this plane of existence,” he informed Tony.  “I shall attempt to locate him, but for now, I believe that he is of no threat to you and your Soulmate.”

 

Tony considered that.  While he didn’t like knowing that Red Skull had survived the explosion, the fact that the monster was no longer on Earth - or whatever ‘no longer on this plane of existence’ meant - was somewhat of a relief.  “Pity,” he said at last. “He’ll miss the press release.” Tony nodded to the kid Pepper had found to take pictures of the wedding - Patrick? Peter? Something like that - then continued down the corridor towards the large doors at the end that would lead to the hastily constructed chapel where he was to be wed.

 

Stephen gave a short bow of acknowledgement, then summoned forth a portal and disappeared through it.  Tony rolled his eyes at the theatrics and continued on his way. The wedding wouldn’t start for another ten minutes or so, but he was already nervous enough and didn’t want to give himself time to have second thoughts.  Again. It had taken him three months after Bucky’s amazing shot had saved his life before he’d managed to gather the courage to ask for Bucky’s hand in marriage, showing off his own newly learned skill in jewelry making.  It wasn’t much different than what he normally did, anyhow, manipulating metal, but he’d had to go with wrist cuffs rather than rings for fear of them getting caught on something.

 

And now, here he was, about to be married.  No longer would be Earth’s Most Eligible Bachelor, or whatever stupid title the paparazzi had for him that meant he was still single and potentially available.  He hadn’t been on the market since Afghanistan, but that hadn’t deterred the media in the least.

 

Nicholas J. Fury was standing just outside the doors to the chapel, his only concession to the fact that this was a wedding rather than a combat situation the single red rose stuck through one of the buttonholes on his leather jacket.  He glared at Tony. “You sure about this?” he asked.

 

Tony grinned brightly.  “Why, Nicky! I didn’t know you cared!” he purred, batting his eyelashes.  Fury just scowled, his mouth thinning into a flat line, and Tony swanned on past him.  “Oh, and tell Coulson I said hi, won’t you?” he called back over his shoulder, feeling smug when Fury barked his name.  Really, for a super secret spy agency (or was that former super secret spy agency now?), their security was incredibly lax.  Jarvis had never left it, no matter how many times they had tried to remove him from their systems. A fact which Coulson had known, and taken advantage of to discreetly suggest that Tony destroy the T.A.H.I.T.I Project.  Tony had agreed; super soldiers notwithstanding, there was no need to go mucking about with the natural order of things.

 

Speaking of super soldiers, Tony looked up as the doors opened to admit him, then stopped and stared, stunned.  Bucky looked...well, like a runway fashion model, but _better_.  Definitely sexier, Tony mused.  Storm grey eyes offset by the deep black of his suit, hair tied back into an elegant man-bun, back straight and confidence radiating from him as he turned and looked at Tony, his mouth curling into a brilliant smile.  Tony shuddered as the feelings flooded through the Bond, amazement and admiration and wonder and love all pouring into him. He staggered, and the bombardment of emotion slowed, calming down, but not lessening in its intensity.  

 

Standing straight, Tony threw open the Bond and sent his own love and awe and determination and pride back to Bucky, watching those eyes flutter closed in pleasure.  

 

Secure that he had made the right decision, Tony headed down the aisle, towards the rest of his life.

 

Towards his Soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes this fic! Seriously, it was supposed to be like three chapters long. I hope you all enjoyed the ride!


End file.
